


Between Memories and Brewing Storms

by Foxalora (DefiFox)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Alcoholist Jschlatt, Anxiety Attack(s), Baker Niki | Nihachu, Bird Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Enderchest is here too, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo, Flashbacks, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Karlnapity adopt Ranboo, Mayor Jschlatt, Memory Book, Mild Angst, Mild Panic/Anxiety, Minor cursing, Multi, Or as I like to call it: three dads adopting a Child(tm), Orphan ranboo, Panic Attack, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Pirate Cara | CaptainPuffy, Protective Alexis | Quackity, Protective Karl Jacobs, Protective Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Ram Hybrid Jschlatt, Ram Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Schlatt is Tubbo's dad, Sick Ranboo, Sort Of, Time Traveler Karl Jacobs, Trauma, blaze hybrid sapnap, not graphic but it's there, yes beta but we still die like friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiFox/pseuds/Foxalora
Summary: In the middle of a storm, Ranboo collapses by the side of a house. He’s alone and confused, with nothing to hold onto but the feeling of pain flaming up with every raindrop that falls on his shaking figure.Three fiancées take him in, but even as his life brightens, new clouds appear on the horizon.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 167
Kudos: 860





	1. A Happy Place

**Author's Note:**

> First work in this fandom, yay! 
> 
> Just to clarify, this work is about fictional characters, not the real people behind them. If any of the people mentioned here mention that they are uncomfortable in any way with this, this work will be taken down immediately.
> 
> There's some panic and anxiety in here, as well as fainting and severe memory problems. Please avoid reading things that could be triggering for you!

Ranboo gasps as he stumbles onto the paved road, his slopping wet shoes and pants so heavy, burning his feet and ankles and leaving trails everywhere he goes. It’s not like he’s moving fast, or wants to be unseen – he’s just trying to survive, find another place out of the forest where people might let him stay for a day or two. Maybe a lady with kind eyes will allow him to sleep in her old rickety shed, or some more well-off family will consume their one kind act a year by allowing him to sleep with their horses. Maybe he’ll be forced to travel on, weather the storm as it bulldozes at his exhausted body and burns his skin until his vision turns white, but never going numb, the pain never drowning itself out.

He doesn’t remember how long it’s been like this – him on his own, scampering down roads and being chased by mobs, occasionally people. Looking for shelter, resorting to stealing if his hunger gets too unbearable and he needs food. He must have more enemies than he can count by now, but he doesn’t remember a single one. It’s strange how everything turns to a blur when life gets so uncertain, like his mind is starting to doubt if he’s ever existed in the first place.

A faint light spot in the clouds tells Ranboo it’s the middle of the day – he has a few more hours to get himself the heck out of this forest, or he’s officially done for. Coughing into his sleeve, he tries to ignore the pounding behind his eyes, the burning of his throat each time he swallows.

He won’t get sick. He _can’t_ get sick. There’s enough weighing him down already, one small flu could mean his end.

_Such happy thoughts_ , Ranboo thinks with a pained grin. _What could possibly be wrong?_

He can’t be much more than a minute’s walk away from the town when the liveliness of it starts to filter through his thoughts. Rain burns on his cheeks, yet he lifts his head to study the village.

A variety of houses lay scattered across a large open field, some big, some small, some looking like a full out palace and others well-built, brick houses that look like they’re inhabited by the most loving of people, with warm couches and a nice hearth inside.

Ranboo makes sure to stay out of sight as he approaches the town, ducking behind walls every time someone passes by. The roads are paved all throughout town, which would be beneficial to him if he were able to walk on them without being seen. It’s useless to him, basically.

When he’s just passed the center of the town without having found a suitable place to hide, a coughing fit seizes him. Ranboo clasps his hand in front of his mouth as hacking coughs shake up his body, making his knees buckle underneath him and leaving him wheezing for air.

Stars dance across his vision as he regains his breath, quickly curling up on himself to stop the rain from reaching every last inch of his skin. It’s a futile attempt, especially now his shirt has gotten soaked with muddy water as well, sending cold burns across his multi-colored skin. Ranboo doesn’t have to lift his clothing to know his skin is turning a sickening red on one side right now, while the other is turning all shades of gray.

Wind blows against his frail frame, making it hard to get back on his feet but he manages. Soon he’s stumbling around again, relieved to find no one has heard him during his fit.

On the outskirts of the town he finds a house. It’s beautiful in its simplicity- red bricks make up the walls, all of them still vibrant in their color, shielded from the weather by a large gray roof with a similar brick pattern. There’s large windows on all sides of the house, and one look inside tells Ranboo that even though no one’s home, it’s actively inhabited- coats hang from a rack, the pillows on the couch have seat markings on them and the hearth is still smoldering, probably just enough to keep cold out of the house. A small garden sits in front of it, complete with flowers and a bench with little markings on it, in a language Ranboo understands but can’t read right now due to the pounding of his head and his blurry vision.

He picks a spot and sags down against the wall, curling into a ball as much as he can to warm himself up. Shivers jolt through his body every now and again, and though he is freezing, he’s pretty sure not all of them are from just the cold.

Before his eyes get too heavy, Ranboo takes a final look around to ensure that he’ll be safe here. As safe as it gets before the house’s occupants return, anyway. There’s no large objects or natural structures in sight that might hide mobs, nor has he seen any dangerous animals on his way here. At least he shouldn’t get mauled to death here, which is something.

The roof’s a little extended where he sits, shielding him from rain directly hitting them. That, plus the sturdy walls of the house blocking the wind, should keep him safe for a bit. Until the owners come home, and start yelling at him. Or chasing him. Maybe they’ll decide to spice it up, bring out a knife or bow in the process. It wouldn’t be the first time, Ranboo recalls, as shards of a lost memory pass by his barely conscious mind, filling it up with jittery, bright red fear and a sharp pain in his left leg.

He’s not sure exactly what happened that day, or how long ago it is. It’s just a remnant of a memory, something his mind has allowed him to mostly forget. Still, it’s the last thing on his mind before he drifts off into a feverish sleep.

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is a throbbing in his back, where he’s been leaning against the wall. After that comes the pounding headache, and the uncomfortable feeling of fabric brushing over burned skin – and then the voices.

Loud, different voices, approaching at rapid speed. Ranboo violently forces his body into a more active position, trying to shake off the icy embrace of cold that has him tremble like a leaf. A thousand questions occupy his mind, but he’s too exhausted to process any of them.

All he can do to prepare for his imminent departure before the three men get too close to him is check the time of day. His heart sinks in his chest when he notes the darkening of the clouds, barely letting through any light anymore. Night is falling rapidly.

The three stop a little ways away from him, and one of them – dark hair, short, clad in dark blues and grays – says something at him. Ranboo strains himself to hear anything over the pounding of his head and heart.

Luckily the guy speaks loudly, though Ranboo figures it’s probably out of anger. He digs his nails into his palms, trying to keep himself from curling into a ball and completely shutting down. The End knows he’s done that before, and how it ended.

“Hey, dude, are you okay? Who are you?” the guy asks, and Ranboo dares another look at his face when he registers the contents of his words, his eyes big with surprise. Maybe he’s going deaf or has just suddenly gotten insanely bad at reading people, but there doesn’t seem to be a bite to his voice. The men on both his sides stare at him intently, and Ranboo digs harder into his palms at the eye contact. It’s uncomfortable, and even through his blurry vision he can feel their gazes scanning him, looking for.. whatever.

“Ra-Ranboo, sir,” he manages, hating the way his voice sounds and wincing as his words rub sandpaper against his throat.

Another man steps forward. His hair is raven black, held back from his face by a white blur Ranboo guesses to be a bandana. “What’re you doing here?” he asks, no emotions discernible in his voice.

Ranboo notices the crumble in his façade too late. Before he can stop himself, he flails back, his back hitting the wall harshly. Pain shortly paralyzes him before he scrambles to get up. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, leaning heavily against the wall. His legs feel like pudding, and his right foot hurts like a bitch. “I can go- I didn’t- Sorry, sorry I disturbed you,” he blabbers on, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as the three men level him with their gaze.

The one who hasn’t spoken yet is the first one to rush forward, ignorant of the hand placed on his shoulder, trying to hold him back. His brown hair is everywhere around his face, weighed down by heavy rain that’s still wrecking the sky. “You’re not alright,” he says, as Ranboo presses himself further into a corner.

If he felt any better, he might’ve made some snarky comment about that. Of course he’s not alright – heck, he doesn’t even remember the last time he was. As it is, he closes his eyes, his ender half finally snapping after all the painful looks from people he doesn’t know.

“Gosh, you look terrible. H-how long have you been out here?” The man asks, and Ranboo shrugs helplessly.

It might as well have been another shiver with how meekly he makes the gesture. “Don’t know,” he answers, absolutely not liking that he’s cornered right now.

The man looks back, and an exchange of words that completely goes by him takes place. Ranboo stands still like a statue, if a statue could shiver and suppress coughs. His mind runs wild. Is this the moment he’s supposed to run? They might just as well be discussing their preferred method of getting rid of him, or where to dispose of his body.

But no, that wouldn’t make any sense. He may be stupid, and an absolute idiot, but there was no anger in any of their voices. They seem more worried than anything, leaving Ranboo clueless as to what’s about to happen.

In all honesty, he’s not sure if he cares if he lives or dies. As long as he isn’t forced to take to the road again – he’s just so tired, and freezing already, and his foot hurts and his throat is parched and burning at the same time and his skin is covered in burns and his stomach is begging him for food and-

“You should come inside,” the man’s careful voice interrupts his spiraling.

Ranboo opens his eyes, the dim lighting setting off explosions in his head. “H-huh?”

“We’re not leaving you out here, so unless you have a home we can take you to, you’re comin’ with us,” bandana guy says.

They’ve all stepped closer to him, and Ranboo’s ender intuition is screaming at him that he’s being threatened right now. He’s practiced in suppressing that side, would even go as far as to call himself an expert – but he’s so _tired_ , and his body just won’t respond to his pleas right now. Before he can stop himself, he hisses at them just barely refraining from going completely feral.

All three of them jump back, but then the brown-haired one says something to the others, and they both nod and disappear into the house, leaving him with Ranboo.

“It’s Ranboo, right? You don’t have to talk, just nod if that’s alright,” the man starts with a soft voice.

After a split second of doubt, Ranboo nods at him. In the state he’s in, he won’t be able to get away anyways, so he might as well just play along. The man smiles kindly at him, though worry seems to be permanently etched into his features. “I’m Karl. I live in this house here,” he gestures to the red brick walls and the nice patio and the open door, “with my two fiancées, who you just met. The one with the bandana is Sapnap, the other one Quackity.”

Ranboo nods again, his shoulders sagging a bit as some of the tension leaves his body. He’s so tired, and his legs can barely hold him, but he’s not about to fall asleep on the g- on Karl. “Why are you telling me this?”

Karl winces visibly at the coughs that follow his question, and if Ranboo was in the right state to be able to, he would’ve felt sorry for the guy. “It’s like Sap said,” he says carefully, approaching him with tiny step like he’s a wild, frightened animal – which isn’t that far off, probably. “We’re not going to let you starve or wither away here on the streets. Do you have a family, a place we can take you to?”

Ranboo shakes his head, closing his eyes to block out the light. Even if someone was waiting for him out there, he has no way to know.

“Didn’t think so,” Karl mutters to himself. “Then you’re coming inside, alright? Until we know what to do with you, we have a spare room with a bed, food and a med kit that hasn’t been used in ages.”

“N-No…” Ranboo stutters, covering his face with his hands. His burnt cheeks flare when they make contact with his fingers and he hisses, freezing up completely. “You shouldn’t-”

The only warning he gets before another fit of coughing squeezes out his lungs is an itching in his sore throat. He doubles over against his will, gasping for air as coughs rock his body.

There’s some distressed sound in front of him and then there’s a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to calm down and regain his breath. If Ranboo flinches at the sudden contact, it surely goes unnoticed between his body’s violent shaking from his sickness and the cold.

Comforting words he can’t quite grasp the meaning of fill his head. He feels himself clasping to that voice as stars dance in front of his vision and his knees start to buckle underneath him, and another hand is placed on his other shoulder to steady him. There’s an unfiltered edge of panic to Karl’s voice and it shakes occasionally as he continues to talk, but there’s also warmth in there, and other emotions Ranboo can’t discern.

He leans slightly into the touch as his throat clears up, tears having formed in his eyes from the exertion.

“Gosh, there’s burns all over your face,” Karl discerns, worry laced in his voice.

Ranboo whimpers in response, too exhausted to form a coherent word.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Karl reiterates, gently coaxing him out of his corner. “Am I okay to touch you, actually? Sorry I didn’t ask, you were panicking and I wasn’t sure what I should do,” he rambles on, and Ranboo might’ve smiled at any other time. He hasn’t met kind-hearted people in a long time, but this sounds like someone he might be friends with in a different realm.

He nods, wincing when the pounding in his head grows more insistent. His eyes are still squeezed shut, but he can feel that Karl’s gaze has moved away from him, probably up to his house.

_Touch is fine_ , he tells himself as Karl softly squeezes his shoulder. _Touch is good._

When it comes from a place of worry and kindness, not from heated anger or cold annoyance.

When it comes from a stranger, who, however terrifying the prospect seems, is about to have Ranboo’s life in his hands.

Ranboo opens his eyes shortly. Before a fearful darkness takes him under its wings, he’s able to risk one blurry look at Karl. The man is gesturing for someone to come outside, his hair flapping around wildly as he moves.

A hand is still laid protectively on his shoulder, and Ranboo relaxes into the touch a bit. _Touch is good._

Maybe Karl is good, too.


	2. Taking In a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not like there was any other choice to begin with - the moment Karl set eyes on Ranboo and the state he was in, he knew he couldn't just let that slide by. He would- he will see to it that the kid gets to live his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though Ranboo is the main character (lol), some other people will be getting their own chapters. This is a little slice of Karl's viewpoint!

Sapnap and Quackity do everything in their power to chase away the thick uncomfortable silence as they wait. After the kid – he introduced himself as Ranboo, which Karl considers to be a strange name; then again, his fiancées pretty high up that list as well – crashed into his arms, Sapnap had rushed over and they’d brought him inside together, Quackity rushing back into the rain to find someone with medical skills.

  


Normally Philza would have been their go-to guy. As both a father of possibly the most energetic and reckless kid to have ever stampeded on their great green plane and a town guard, the man had medical experience aplenty. Sadly he was out of town for the weekend though, apparently something that had to do with a scouting mission for Eret, the region’s duke.

  


Captain Puffy was their next best bet. Another member of the town’s guard and a notorious pirate (everyone wonders how she still has her job – no one’s complaining, though), she’d seen enough sickness to know what to do in case of emergencies. Which, Karl decides as he thinks back to the boy’s worrying cough, swollen ankle and his burn-covered body, this definitely counts as an emergency. Never mind the fact that he’s probably severely malnourished and dehydrated, and filled to the brim with traumatic responses to the most simple of human interactions.

  


“-seemed really out of it? I’m really worried for him.”

  


“Yeah, me too,” Karl mumbles from where he’s laying with his head in Sapnap’s lap. Fingers play lazily with his hair, and Quackity occasionally leans down to kiss him on his forehead. “We’re keeping him here, right? I don’t think I’d sleep well if I knew he was out there alone, especially in his current condition.”

  


Quackity grins, tugging at his beanie. “You’re such a big softie, Karl. How do you not break down every time you see a child?”

  


“It gets like, super close,” Karl responds, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  


Sapnap grins too, his dark eyes meeting Karl’s. “If the kid wants to stay, he can stay,” he answers. “Right, Q?”

  


Quackity makes a small show out of showing his apprehension, making both his fiancées giggle as Sapnap pulls him closer against his side. “I guess I could deal with him being here”, he concedes eventually, when Sapnap is peppering his face with kisses.

  


Karl closes his eyes, a small weight lifted from his shoulders. “Thanks, guys.”

  


Both of them hum in response. Despite his played reluctance, Karl knows Quackity doesn’t have any objections to Ranboo staying. If anything, he’s probably aching to have someone to keep him company when Karl is out on his travels and Sapnap works extra hours at the blazing fire and his anvils, finding his comfort in providing everyone in town with excellent goods. Quackity’s just trying to keep his spirits up, to keep him from spiraling into worry and feelings of powerlessness.

  


It’s working, too. Under his fiancées’ hands and with their soft-spoken words humming gently to him, he feels himself doze off up until the moment Puffy appears in the hallway.

  


Karl sits up, leaning against Sapnap as all three of them look at the weathered Captain in anticipation. Her fluffy, untamable hair is tied back to keep out of her face, and her brown bag is slung over her shoulder. Karl sighs in relief. If she’s leaving already, it can’t be all too bad.

  


“He’ll be alright,” she says just then, confirming his suspicions. “His ankle isn’t broken, he just needs to be careful with it for a week or two and he has a bad case of the cold, but there aren’t any clear signs of pneumonia. All in all, I’d say he got pretty lucky, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

  


“If that’s lucky, I don’t want to know what the other options are,” Karl mutters. “What about the burns?”

  


Puffy’s eyes glaze over a moment before she perks up again. “Right. I uh, I recognized those symptoms, combined with that half-and-half thingie he’s got going on. Figure he’s half enderman, and the rain burnt him pretty bad. That’ll heal up too within a week or so, and it shouldn’t scar if you take good care of it. I left some distilled magma cream on the night stand, it’ll soothe his burns. Other than that, just change up the bandages each day until the bigger burns have healed and make sure he gets some food in his system.”

  


Sapnap nods as Karl gets up, giving Puffy a quick hug before opening the door for her. “Thanks, Puffy. Can we expect you over at some point again?”

  


Puffy grins cheekily at him. “Unless you fuck up real bad, the kid should be fine. For a drink, maybe once the weather gets too bad for me to sail out.”

  


“Gotcha,” Karl quips. “Ahoy, Captain!” He waves and she reciprocates the gesture before she steps back into the rain, her shoulders set with characteristic determination. Only Puffy could make walking look so natural, yet like an action that takes years to perfect. Maybe it’s the sea legs.

  


It’s probably the sea legs.

  


Karl shakes off his thoughts, closing the door softly behind him. “Another hybrid in the house,” he cheers softly, knowing said hybrid is asleep in the adjacent room. Slinging his arms around Sapnap, he moves in to give him a quick kiss.

  


Quackity perks up on the couch. “Explains why he’s so freakishly tall.”

  


A fit of giggles takes hold of Karl at that. “He’s like, twice your height,” he manages, still grinning wildly.

  


“Fuck you, Karl! You’re so mean to me,” Quackity whines. “I’ll just break Ranboo’s knees or something,” he adds under his breath, still pouty.

  


Sapnap quirks a brow. “You sure you wanna beat a kid when he’s down? I don’t think he’ll be walking any time soon regardless,” he says, plopping down next to Quackity on the couch and slinging his legs over Quackity’s legs as the shorter man grumbles his response.

  


With one look at them, Karl decides to leave them be together. His diary is waiting, and he wants to remember as much as he possibly can from today’s events. From their date at the riverside to running to hide in Niki’s bakery when the storm set in, to making their way home and finding an enderman hybrid hiding by their house.

  


That plan firm in his mind, he shakes his head apologetically when Sapnap motions to join them on the couch, instead grabbing his diary from an item frame hung up on their wall for that exact purpose, and makes his way to the guest room, where Ranboo resides.

  


He’s not sure why he’s pulled to that room in particular – the kitchen or their own bedroom would have made for perfect places if he wanted privacy, too, but his mind drags him this way. Ranboo lays motionlessly under the blankets piled atop him when Karl enters. Except for the occasional hitch of his breath or twitch of his ears, it’s almost like he’s staring at an inanimate object. The boy reminds him oddly of a porcelain doll as he lays flat on his back. Fragile, no apparent signs of health, emotionless.

  


Taking his seat in the chair next to the bed, Karl sighs softly to himself. There’s so much not right about this situation, he isn’t even sure where to begin. Just the fact that a boy, who can’t be much older than Tommy or Tubbo, could be forced to live a life like the one he’s glimpsed behind Ranboo’s eyes makes his chest constrict.

  


He just wants to take his watch and travel back, find a way to give Ranboo a good life, where he won’t end up fainting into a stranger’s arms. But something tells him the Inbetween won’t allow it. Time travel is not to be used for personal purposes, he reminds himself as his fingers dig into the armrests of his chair.

  


The kid will get better, if there’s anything Karl can do about it. This time there’s no quick fix, though, not like when he was sent back in time to assassinate George’s would-be assassins. This time he’ll have to wait, sit by Ranboo’s bed and pray he won’t leave once he’s physically able to. Hope the kid will turn out alright, and do everything in his power to make it so.

  


Karl heaves another short sigh before opening his diary to a new page. Grabbing his quill, he stills for a moment as he ponders on the right way to start this entry. Then he sets the quill down, beginning the process of filling new pages one deliberate stroke at a time.

_Diary Entry #45_

_It seems we all have to rely on someone else’s kindness from time to time._


	3. Bandages and Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize, with a stranger at his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I shortly want to thank everyone for the love I've received on this fic- it's incredible. It means a lot to me to be able to share my silly stories with the world <3
> 
> There's a panic attack in here, as well as sickness, injuries (far from graphic) and a blackout. Please don't read anything that could trigger you!

The first time Ranboo wakes up, there’s an insufferable pounding behind his eyes and the candlelight adds to the pain when he opens his eyes for a moment. He doesn’t even have time to realize where he is or who’s sitting next to him before he slides back into a tumultuous slumber.

The second time is almost an entire day later. Later he’ll forget most of the things that happened, the only thing he can recall from that day being the feeling of being stuck, held down by blankets and pillows and drowning in the heat they radiate. His first instinct is to kick wildly around him, his body so used to going from sleeping to being on full alert it goes automatically.

Pain flares up in his right ankle the moment he thrusts it a random way, trying to escape the impossible tangle of blankets he’s burrowed under. He yelps in shock, his eyes flying wide open. Through the blurriness that accompanies sleepiness he can vaguely make out a grey brick pattern of a roof.

Where even is he? It’s not unlike him to forget where he fell asleep, but Ranboo is pretty sure he’d remember if he fell asleep in a place like this, under a _roof_.

“Woah. Hey, hey, Ranboo,” a voice sounds next to him, and Ranboo whirls his head around to the new sound. Bad choice. A hammer pounds down onto his brain, interrupting his thoughts with the same rhythm as his heartbeat. He scrambles away from the voice until his back hits the wall, shutting his eyes again.

“Hey,” worry is now laced in the voice, which – to Ranboo’s miniscule relief – doesn’t get any closer. “You’re alright. It’s me, Karl, do you remember?”

Sweat drips from Ranboo’s forehead, leaving trails of burn marks as they go. He uses the pain to try and ground himself, but panic only wells up more insistently. Why is he here?

He’s stuck here in this bed, unable to move without feeling like he’s going to collapse. There’s a man he doesn’t know leaning over him, and everything hurts. So much. It hurts in an oddly familiar way, too, but he knows he hasn’t had it this bad.

He can barely breathe. The walls loom over him, threatening like the trees in forests when he ran from skeletons and zombies, until his calves burned and he was gasping for air, unable to ever suck in enough to fill his aching lungs.

His chest hurts like hell and it feels like his ribcage is suddenly too small, and for a short moment he feverishly wonders if the man has done something to him. 

When a first rattling cough spills from his lips, his light-headedness worsens until it’s all he can do to stay conscious and keep himself from choking. He can vaguely feel hands positioning him upright and his knee-jerk response is to flinch away violently, only worsening his coughs. Leaning forward, Ranboo coughs until he can’t catch his breath and all oxygen has left his brain and tears are spilling from his eyes from panic and exertion, and he feels so heavy yet so impossibly light at the same time.

With a rasping breath he falls back onto his pillows, too tired to fight the blackening of his vision.

The third time he wakes up it’s to a foreign pressure against his leg. Ranboo jolts upwards, blinking against the light of a lantern placed by his bed.

A person by his side jumps at that, straightening before regaining his composure. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were awake,” the man says, readjusting his bandana.

Ranboo looks him up and down, coming to the conclusion that there’s no imminent threat when he can’t find any shiny metal or other suspicious objects. Of course, the man could always just elect to beat him up with his fists. In his current state, Ranboo is pretty sure an underfed bird could beat him up. “What’re you doing,” he rasps, immediately regretting speaking when the words parch over his throat, leaving burns everywhere.

“Puffy said you shouldn’t speak,” the man informs him, reaching for a glass of water with a straw in it. Ranboo avoids his stare but his eyes never leave the raven as he moves around the room. “You should drink,” he says, holding up the glass in front of him.

Taking a few tentative sips, Ranboo can instantly feel the relief on his parched throat. “Don’t drink too fast,” he chides softly, his voice sounding unusually gruff to be so soft-spoken.

Listening to him, Ranboo starts drinking slower, thankful for the straw to avoid any water spilling onto his lips. He only stops when he’s emptied the glass and his head has cleared up a little. Enough, at least, to tell him that this man isn’t a complete stranger to him. Something about his demeanor is vaguely familiar, but Ranboo’s memory has never been reliable to put it softly, and it’s not cooperating now.

Which leaves him with really no information on whether he can trust the man, and as happens more often, he’s _confused_. On one hand, he’s been shown nothing but kindness since he woke up in what he can only presume to be the guy’s house. On the other, he has no idea who the heck this is or why he’s here. For all he knows he could’ve been plucked from the streets by some manipulative prick.

Okay, it’s probably not that bad. Can you blame him for speculating, though?

“W-who..” his voice trails off and he risks a glance at Sapnap, hating the way his head physically hurts when their eyes meet but feeling the need to make sure he’s understood.

Sapnap stills for a second before nodding. “I’m Sapnap,” he says. “You’re in the house of me, Karl and Quackity,” Something clicks in Ranboo’s mind at those names, and he remembers something about fiancées, though his head is too fuzzy to figure it out completely. “..After you showed up at our house in the middle of a storm. Which, might I add, you were pretty lucky we found you, because the wind turned just after we got you inside.”

Sapnap doesn’t need to complete that image for Ranboo to know what it means. With the wind turning, the rain would have come straight at him. There would have been nowhere for him to hide, he would’ve been exposed. Exposed to the rain, that would have battered down on him mercilessly. He draws in a breath, pulled from his catastrophizing as Sapnap clears his throat.

“I was just redressing your bandages. Is that alright with you?” Sapnap cocks his head, gesturing towards his leg.

Ranboo’s mind blanks for a moment. So.. no evil scheme and kidnapping plot, but people providing him with care? Somehow, that sounds more unbelievable to him than the first option. He can deal with shitty people. They invade every memory he does manage to hold on to, live in his dreams rent free. Kindness.. sounds unrealistic, but whatever. It’s not like he’s getting out of here in the foreseeable future, considering he can barely keep himself upright. He nods at Sapnap, allowing himself to slide back into the fluffy pillows.

Everything is so soft against his irritated skin. His head is welcomed into a warm, comfortable position and there’s just enough blankets on top of him to keep him grounded, without making it too stuffy. And, if he ever is to get cold, there’s an additional pile of blankets on the floor he supposes are for him. Flashes of panic and the feeling of being suffocated cross his mind when he looks at them, but they’re gone as soon as they come.

Sapnap works quickly and methodically, Ranboo learns. Starting by unwrapping the old bandages, he does his best to make sure he doesn’t cause him any additional pain, looking up methodically to confirm. After, he applies something to his aching burns that he doesn’t quite recognize, but it does wonders for his discomfort. When that’s done, he takes out a new roll of bandages and makes sure they sit snugly, without cutting off his circulation. The process is repeated two more times, on his arm and then his back, which takes some effort to reach, but they work it out with a lot of patience.

“That should do it for now,” Sapnap says as he wraps up, making a ball of the old bandages and burning them in his hand. At his command a small flame licks up to the palm of his hand, cooing softly as it consumes the waste. When it’s done its part, the flame diminishes into nothing, and Sapnap goes on as if nothing even happened.

Ranboo stares at Sapnap’s hand, then his face. He opens his mouth to say something but the other notices it just in time to cut him off. “Blaze hybrid,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “I heard you’re a hybrid as well.” It’s more an observation and less of a question, but Ranboo nods anyway.

Shortly he wonders how they know that about him. Then he looks at his differently colored hands, and, frankly, almost inhumanely large and lanky build, and it makes a lot more sense.

“Enderman, right?” Sapnap asks, even though Ranboo’s pretty sure he knows the answer already. He nods again.

“So, it’s pretty clear you don’t respond well to water,” he chuckles sheepishly, “but, is there anything else we should take into consideration? Are you comfortable with eye contact?”

Ranboo hesitates. It’s a complicated matter, if he’s honest. Strangers looking him in the eye is uncomfortable, to put it simply. It’s not the only reason he avoids gaining their attention, but he’s not about to remind himself of that now, it’ll only bring him down a path he really doesn’t want to go right now.

There’s something he remembers, a small flicker of what might’ve been a happier time. It’s a vision shrouded in golden sunlight. He’s young, here – not sure how young, but his body is still small enough to be held in tightly in his father’s arms. The only reason he knows this is because the feeling of an arm supporting his back, palm holding up his head and fingers ruffling his hair accompanies the vision like a sworn partner. He’s not sure where he is – his surroundings are blurred, making everything blend smoothly into the next object except for one thing: the warm, brown eyes that stare into his own, expression filled with what can only be described as pure devotion and love. And he remembers, still can feel, even, the feeling that spread through him then: the warmth, the passion, the fuzzy feeling of being safe and cared for and loved. That when all else fails, those arms will be there to help him back up, wipe the grime from his face and kiss away the pain.

Ranboo shudders as the feeling leaves again. He eyes Sapnap, who’s gaze is on him expectantly. The man does avoid looking in his eyes, something he’s grateful for. Now is not a moment he wants to spend getting agitated and nauseous on top of everything else. “Takes time,” he groans, when he figures just a gesture of his head won’t do. Sapnap seems pretty capable of interpreting his limited signals so far, so he hopes he’s given the blaze hybrid enough to that now, too.

Furrowing his brows, Sapnap gives him a look over. “Takes time to.. get comfortable?” Ranboo gives him a tiny nod. “So it’s like a stranger thing. Kind of like trusting someone?”

Interesting. It’s a nice metaphor, Ranboo muses, and he nods again. Taking some of the blankets in his hands, he starts gripping and releasing it at a slow pace. The familiar movement sets off a small wave of calmness inside him, and for a moment there’s not as much wrong in the world. He lets out a tiny sigh, watching as Sapnap nods to himself.

“That makes sense, I guess,” the raven-haired man says, standing up. “Are you hungry? I could get you something to eat, if you want.”

Ranboo nods without hesitation. He’s starving, and these people seem more than willing to help him out, so who is he to decline? He’ll feel guilty about it later, when he manages to get himself into a dark place again. For now, he’ll enjoy the opportunities being offered to him.

Sapnap gets up with a smile, and so a period of healing begins for Ranboo. In between changing his bandages and getting feverish rest he gets to know his three hosts a bit better. Several days pass of them talking to him, telling him about their lives and the town he’s stumbled into – he comes to learn it’s called Marstown.


	4. Memory Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo comes face to face with kindness and consideration.

Sapnap is a body of concentrated determination, impulsiveness and warmth. Though he’s good at keeping his calm (his job requires for him to be very cautious), Ranboo learns he also has a great love for arson. Which makes sense, considering he’s half blaze. Still, it kind of shocks him initially that the caring, warm blacksmith that has often been the first face to greet him when he wakes up has a more erratic side to him.

Quackity is a bit of Sapnap’s opposite in that regard, he supposes. When he enters a room, he does so with a bounce in his step and a glimmer in his eyes that promises he’s up to no good. Ranboo almost pushes him away when he first tries to check on his healing body, and only manages to remind himself that this is one of the people he owes his life to at the very end.

He manages to keep very still, hiding the shock in his body behind a well-practiced cough. Still, when Quackity looks up he quickly notes the way Ranboo’s body has gone rigid as he stares in fearful anticipation at the man at his bedside.

The man curses, and Ranboo’s heart clenches in his chest. Fear seeps into his mind and controls his thoughts. Will this be the final straw that makes them kick him out? Maybe it’s for the best, if this is what he does to them. Drain Quackity of his joy the moment he comes in his proximity, force Sapnap down to a calm, reserved persona he shouldn’t have to keep up at home, and probably so much more, so many things he hasn’t even noticed. Maybe it’s better if they kick him out. It probably is.

“and..-Ranboo? Are you with me? Shit, dude. I’m so sorry,” Quackity says, carefully shuffling over to him. 

“W-what?” Ranboo asks, carefully packing up his thoughts and keeping them close by, completely ready for what life is about to throw at him next. “I’m fine, it’s- it’s nothing, really. Sorry,” he says, and tries a weak chuckle that quickly evolves into a painful coughing fit.

Quackity watches him carefully, waiting until his heaving breaths return to a somewhat normal breathing rhythm before offering him some water. Nodding to himself, he then sets to his work, checking regularly on Ranboo. For a few moments he’s content to work in silence like that, but soon Ranboo notices he’s aching to say something. As he berates himself for the way his breathing quickens ever so slightly at that, he sets off a fearful period of expectant silence.

“Ranboo,” Quackity says, the gravity in his voice shocking him out of his thoughts, “Do you want me to be more calm around you?”

Ranboo stares at him. He can’t help it. Maybe it’s his human genes, maybe he’s just too shocked to feel the twist in his stomach, maybe his mind’s too swaddled up to notice the discomfort. He swallows, feeling the burn at the back of his throat. “You’re asking me.. what you should do?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or something, dude. If you want me to stop bouncing around and stuff when I’m around you, that’s totally fine too.”

“You’d do that for me?” Ranboo asks incredulously. He wonders what he did to deserve the unbelieving stare in return.

Quackity frowns. “Why wouldn’t I? I just wanna make sure you’re alright, man.”

“Oh-Okay,” Ranboo nods, more to himself than anyone. He takes his time to gather up the courage for his next question. Quackity’s words are pretty, but they might as well mean nothing for all he knows. This might just as well be a gateway to continuing his life as a homeless – probably – orphan.

“Could you maybe not, be so energetic when you’re close to me? It’s not – something I’m used to in a good way.”

“You- shit, of course. Thanks for telling me, Ranboo,” Quackity says, forcing some light back to his eyes. “I’m pretty much done now, but I’ll make sure to do that next time, alright?”

Ranboo nods, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He should’ve known. Of course this stranger’s kindness knows no bounds. “Thanks,” he manages, keeping his voice steady. Emotions are building up behind his throat, but he’ll keep himself together until Quackity’s gone. He’ll have multiple hours to himself after, and as long as he’s quiet, most things should go unnoticed.

Quackity nods with a slight smile. “’Course, no problem. You know, if you ever want to talk someone, I’m here, right? Don’t feel like you’re all on your own and keep everything bottled up. That’ll eat you up, trust me.”

“Okay,” he answers, pushing the turmoil in his mind back violently. He doesn’t even think about the answer, he just flaps it out to have this conversation be over. Attention makes him feel uncomfortable, a writhing animal being under a stern inspector’s gaze, being dissected by the stares.

An encouraging grin appears on the man’s face, before he gets to his feet. “Alright then,” he says, effortlessly having switched back to his energetic self. “Bye!” The last vowel is stretched to an unnatural extent, and a shadow of a smile passes Ranboo’s face as well.

Everything about Karl seems a bit contradictory when Ranboo first gets to know him. Like Quackity and Sapnap he has a calm and controlled side, one that screams experience whenever he’s changing bandages or checking up on his ankle. Even when he finds Ranboo in the middle of an anxiety attack he acts with unfazed patience. On the other hand, he might also very well be the goofiest person on earth. His giggles ring through the entire house and his jokes are so terribly constructed they remind Ranboo of the huts he saw strung about the edge of the forest, built with a toddler’s care and patience.

When Ranboo wakes up near the halfway through his second week in the sturdy, spruce wood bed with its poppy-colored soft covers and pillows aplenty, Karl is in the chair next to him, scribbling away in what Ranboo guesses to be his diary.

The blankets are just heavy enough to put a light pressure on his body, keeping him nice and grounded against the soft mattress. Most of his bandages are gone by now, the only one remaining around his upper arm, where a large burn had spread across a nasty gash he doesn’t even remember getting. It didn’t look pretty at first, but with care from the three men – and apparently some doctor slash pirate woman who visited while he was out – everything is healing up nicely. The throbbing in his ankle is ebbing as well, his coughing fits are far milder and longer between, and even his head’s getting clearer by the day.

He finds himself getting more comfortable in his hosts’ presence, as well. It’s not as hard now to have a bit of a conversation or ask them for something, even if he is still hesitant, the fear he’ll ask for too much always looming.

As of today, Ranboo’s needs appear to be met the moment he wakes up. On the table next to him, next to Karl’s steaming cup of coffee, a there’s a glass of water and a plate filled with perfectly crisp bacon, pancakes and a bowl of various fruits mixed together. The combination had seemed strange to Ranboo initially, but he soon learned that social norms mean nothing in this household, which instead adheres to the rules of comfort and fun.

Ranboo pushes out his legs and stretches, releasing a big yawn before he works himself into a sitting position. Karl looks up from his book and smiles, welcoming as ever. “Morning, Ranboo!” He chirps, and Ranboo smiles back at the man, already wide awake in his colorful hoodie.

“G’morning, Karl,” he replies, noting a strange light feeling spread through his body, alleviating some of the pressure and permanent exhaustion that accompanies the healing process. With a content sigh, he leans over his breakfast.

He eats in silence, until there’s no scrap left anywhere. Meanwhile Karl writes away peacefully, scrunching up his eyebrows at one point and giggling to himself at the other, always looking like he’s realities away from this one.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve eaten this good, ever,” Ranboo says, almost scaring himself with his impulsiveness. “Not that I would’ve remembered if I did,” he adds with an awkward chuckle, “probably would have forgotten within days.”

The book is closed at that, and Karl looks up, seemingly scavenging his brain until something clicks and his eyes light up almost comically. “I’m glad it’s good food! I wanted to talk to you about your memory, actually. Do you know why I have this book?” 

Ranboo follows his hands as they stroke the leather cover, tracing the seam where the bundle of pages is sowed tightly against the sturdy material. “No..?” He responds, uncertain how the two connect.

“To put it very simply, I have some memory issues. It’s not- it was a big problem initially, but then Quackity gave me this bad boy.” He opens the book to the first page, tracing the engravings that reveal themselves on the inside of the leather. _For my joy,_ it reads, _may love conquer time._

Ranboo swallows, impressed and slightly entranced by the words written at bottom of the leather in elegant carves. “That’s-”

“Unlike the Quackity you usually see, I know,” Karl laughs easily. “He’s a big sap too, he just doesn’t show it as much. Anyway, this- I use this book as my diary, and it really helps me to remember stuff. Whatever I want to remember I just put in there, and boom, it’s preserved!” Karl looks at him with a brilliant grin as he thumbs through the pages demonstratively, never lingering long enough for Ranboo to read its contents.

Not that he wants to – this is some private stuff. Ranboo averts his eyes politely as an ocean of possibility laps at his thoughts. “You think that would help me?” he asks, masking his fear with a generous amount of caution. He grabs his sprouting hope by the stem, ready to yank it out at any sign of rejection. Hope is not an emotion he will give in to carelessly – it’s too erratic, its outcomes are too unpredictable. He’d much rather reap the meager fruits of patience and preservation than snag a fruit from the forbidden tree that is hope.

Which is why, when Karl nods and pulls out a new book, he feels both a great excitement and a surprisingly numb calm wash over him, both fighting to reign supreme over the other.

Ranboo opens his hand for Karl to gently place the book, wrapping his fingers around the gleaming burgundy leather with near hysteric caution. This leather looks and feels like it cost more gold than he’s seen in his lifetime, and yet Karl just placed it into the hands of practically a stranger.

He opens the book with slightly shaky hands, plagued by the things it might be signifying. Though it’s probably meant to be a kind-hearted gift, Ranboo’s heart nearly stills as his mind produces possible underlying intentions. Is this committal? Does this gift mean, in some sort of way, that he’s stuck here now? Do they want to own him? Would they- Why-

_No._

Karl did not just give him an incredibly thoughtful gift, something to help with one of the most prominent problems he’s ever faced, just for him to start theorizing how he might be some evil mastermind. That is _not_ something Ranboo will allow himself to do, not when he’s being watched with the human equivalent of a golden retriever look.

“This is for me?” He asks instead, banishing his thoughts to a faraway corner of his mind, praying he’ll forget them. He wants to focus on the positive right now, not lose himself in catastrophic what-ifs.

Karl nods, a mixture of excitement and anticipation displayed on his face. He places a cautious hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, giving him every chance to bat it away if he’s uncomfortable. “Do you like it?”

The touch initially startles Ranboo, but then a vague remnant of a memory returns to him – a steadying hand on his shoulder as the world that kept trying to hurt him fell away, and three words he repeated until his vision went black. _Touch is good_ , he remembers, and is again led to conclude when a warmth spreads through him that the incredibly soft blankets can’t rival.

He takes a good look at the book in his hands. It’s a bit heavy, its pages almost offensively empty. It deserves to be written in, he decides, and looks up to face Karl. “I think it’s great,” he responds with surprising ease.

Karl grins at that, falls silent for a bit, and glances shortly at Ranboo, still mindful to avoid eye contact. “Can I hug you?”

Ranboo stills. For a moment, a fatalistic part of him makes him want to open his mouth and scream no. _This is all temporary_ , it pleads with him, _we will never find our home_. The hand on his shoulder squeezes softly in question, and soon the intruding voice is drowned out by other thoughts, much more welcoming ones.

They speak of silent mornings watching dewdrops on the rose bushes outside the window, afternoons spent conversing over drinks and cookies, and evenings settling into his bed with his new memory book, a lifetime away from cold forests and threatening shadows. 

Ranboo spends another moment peering over the edge – into the unknown, where sweet promises beckon him closer. Then, with a fresh conviction, he takes the leap. Before Karl knows what’s happening Ranboo warps himself against him, chasing after the strange warmth that rushed through him when he’d placed that hand on his shoulder. He finds it in tenfold against Karl’s chest, and a fulfilled smile spreads across his face as his mind stills to a peaceful train of thoughts.

Karl stumbles over his words in surprise, but melts into the hug with a pleased hum. “Didn’t expect that,” he giggles as he scoots closer to the bed.

Ranboo laughs at that, too, softly against Karl’s chest. He’s far from being okay, doubt still gnaws at the edges of his limited memory. But every moment he spends in the vicinity of either of the three fiancées leaves him feeling just a little lighter, a little more optimistic about his future.


	5. Favorite Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Sapnap and Karl out of the house, Ranboo spends some time with Quackity - and meets his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUYS GUYS RANBOO IS ADOPTED BY THE THREE FIANCÉES. #Hometwt is my new favorite place to be, I cannot believe those streams happened but I am so here for Karlnapity + Ranboo streams. 
> 
> Enough freaking out now, alright. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter <3

It's two weeks into his stay when Quackity pops into the guest room and demands to know his favorite colors. “For paint,” he responds with an exaggerated eyeroll when Ranboo asks what for. “To make the room yours!”

  


The conversation that ensues is slightly chaotic, with Quackity struggling to explain the arguments supporting the decision to let him stay – Sapnap and Karl aren’t home, both out working, apparently. They go through everything together, Ranboo weakly reasoning that he can’t just stay, they can’t just let a stranger move in with them, after all, and Quackity insisting that it’s exactly what they’re planning to do. “It’ll be great,” he grins when Ranboo’s gone through all his objections, “you’ll see.”

  


Ranboo can’t say no at that point, with Quackity grinning at him like a madman. It’s not like he even wanted to reject in the first place, he’d love to stay here! For the first time in a long time he’s seen and treated as a complete person, he’s fed, and has a roof above his head. Not to mention he’s come to consider Karl, Sapnap and Quackity as friends of sorts. They’ve shown him nothing but kindness, and he feels a sort of safety enter his mind uninvited whenever they’re near – that must be what friendship entails, right?

  


So why does he feel so guilty? Scrap that, actually, he knows why. It’s because there’s a voice in his head, a part of his mind, that keeps telling him this is wrong. That he’s leeching off of some happy existence he isn’t meant to have like a starved parasite, and that his hosts will soon discover the nature of his stay. It’ll be over for him sooner than he can blink when that happens, and he’ll be back to nothing.

  


It would be a lot easier to ignore those thoughts if they hadn’t been a major part in keeping him alive in his past. Always being cautious, stabbing before he got stabbed, leaving before he got left is all he knows to do to defend himself from a knife in the back.. is this situation really so different? If all it takes to break through his defenses is two weeks of human decency and a bit of kindness, then doesn’t that make him weak? It makes him feel pathetic thinking about it, that’s for sure.

  


So it’s either get welcomed into a new life or get stabbed in the back. Either way, he’s weak for allowing everything to come this far. He should never have chosen this town to crash in, should have avoided populated areas and sticked to the woods. They’re dangerous, but at least he would have avoided this kind of danger. Physical danger is something he’s used to – his body shows that all too well, with silver webs of scars stretching across his skin like vines. He has nothing to lose when he’s dodging arrows, jumping over roots and pushing back against the rotten, mushy flesh of zombies. Here, now, he has something. Which means he can lose it, which means he’ll always have to be cautious. Which means a new kind of danger, one he’s so unfamiliar with it hurts to think of the possible consequences.

  


In another life, Ranboo is strong enough to push away this opportunity early – take the warmth and comfort by the root and rip it out of his body. Here, this new life is already starting to grow inside him. He’s already gained something he would lose if he leaves now, and he’s too weak to face the outcome of that choice.

  


Gritting his teeth together, he nods at Quackity, who doesn’t mention the quiver of his lips or his shallow breathing, instead pulling him into a hug after asking if he’s alright with that. A somewhat familiar warmth envelopes him, and Ranboo sighs shakily into the material of the man’s jacket, taking the chance to collect himself in the silence that follows.

  


“There’s nothing keeping you from leaving if you want to,” Quackity says suddenly. “But you have to know that this can be your home if that’s what you want. You’d be safe here, Ranboo. We won’t hurt you or yell at you or kick you out or anything like that. I don’t know what you’re all worried about, but you’ll be safe here. You got that?”

  


Ranboo nods against his chest, taking a shaky inhale before breaking the hug. “Y-yeah. All this is just, not something I’m used to,” he sighs, and almost as if to prove a point the doorbell rings, making him wince.

  


Quackity’s already on his feet, nodding with an understanding look in his eyes. “That’ll change,” he promises with more confidence than Ranboo knows how to handle. “Are you coming to the kitchen to eat or do I need to bring your food here?”

  


“I’ll come in a minute,” Ranboo confirms. A small headache is starting to make its presence known behind his temples. He leans back against the pillows for a moment, listening as Quackity moves through the house. A door is opened, and indistinct voices greet each other light-heartedly. Laughter echoes through the hall shortly after.

  


Seconds later, Quackity pops his head through the doorway. “Are you alright with someone joining us for lunch?”

  


Ranboo blinks. “Uh, sure?” Why would Quackity ask- actually, never mind. It’s a pretty considerate thing to do, he supposes, and he might have taken advantage of the situation and actually declined if he cared less about appeasing his hosts. But hey, who is he to stop Quackity from having people over? A little bit of discomfort is nothing he’s unused to, and maybe this individual won’t be too bad.

  


“Alright,” Quackity grins, and shuts the door on him again. “We’ll be in the kitchen!”

  


Taking one last moment to gather himself, Ranboo inhales deeply. Half an hour of being sociable at most, then he’ll be able to close the curtains and curl in on himself and (hopefully) sleep out his headache.

  


A dark-haired stranger is sat on one of the chairs when Ranboo hobbles in, hopping a bit to avoid pressuring his still painful ankle. Ram horns grow from the side of his head, making a tiny spiral until they end in sharp-looking points.

  


The man turns around at the sound of his footsteps. “God damn you’re tall,” is the first thing he says when he lays eyes on him. “You sure keeping a hybrid like that in your house is a good idea, Q? Could draw a lot of attention.”

  


“Says the guy with ram horns”, Quackity deadpans, and Schlatt shrugs.

  


“Touché.” The well-dressed man turns to him and offers his hand. “Schlatt,” he introduces himself curtly, nodding minutely.

  


“Ranboo. Nice to meet you, sir”, Ranboo answers uncertainly, glancing at Quackity.

  


Quackity gives him an almost apologetic glance as he continues assembling some delicious-looking sandwiches. “Schlatt’s the mayor of this town,” he answers Ranboo’s silent question. “I work with him.”

  


“If you could even call it working, that is,” Schlatt says with twinkling eyes, grinning at himself. “So what brings you here, Ran-boo?”

  


Ranboo manages to hide his frown at Schlatt’s drawn-out pronunciation of his name pretty well, if he may say so himself. The question, however, has him ruffling his fingers nervously on the kitchen counter as he struggles to find the right answer.

  


“I stumbled upon this town when I was.. traveling, and then I pretty much just collapsed by this front door, I guess,” he answers in the end, feeling like any other answer would either evoke pity or disgust, neither of which he’s particularly looking for at the moment.

  


“He didn’t have any family we could bring him to,” Quackity adds, popping a slice of ham in his mouth, “so we’re letting him stay here for as long as he wants.” He shoots Ranboo a cheery wink as he says that, and Ranboo smiles meekly.

  


“An orphan?” Schlatt asks incredulously, apparently so good at overlooking the signs of people trying to stay from weighted subjects that he crushes a budding, more light-hearted atmosphere again. “Make sure you keep him away from Techno, then.”

  


Ranboo’s eyes widen in surprise, his stomach making a sick flip. That.. doesn’t sound good. “Who’s Techno?”

  


“He’s someone from town,” Quackity rushes to say with a poisonous look at Schlatt. “He likes to _joke_ that he hates orphans, but it’s nothing serious. Isn’t that right, Schlatt?”

  


Schlatt sighs, dissatisfaction clear on his face. “Yeah, yeah.”

  


They fall into a bit of a silence at that, and Ranboo decides he isn’t particularly a big fan of this Schlatt guy. Which isn’t really a good sign, considering the man is the freaking mayor of the town he’ll apparently be staying in for the foreseeable future, but hey, Ranboo’s good at hiding his opinions. He’ll be fine, surely.

  


He plasters a neutral expression on his face, careful not to expose too much of himself to Schlatt as he watches Quackity work. It doesn’t take long before the sandwiches are all assembled, and he’s handed a plate of them with a glass of water.

  


Schlatt gets a stronger drink with his lunch – seriously, alcohol at noon? – and is soon chattering away with Quackity over little things. Their discussions get pretty heated at moments, but judging by Quackity’s relaxed posture and Schlatt’s occasional sudden outbursts of laughter, it’s all in good fun.

  


Ranboo is quite content to just listen to them as he takes tiny bites from the sandwich. It’s delicious – as is all the food in this house if you ask him, but Quackity says that’s just because he has a severe lack of experience when it comes to eating decent food.

  


Somewhere in the conversation he zones out a bit, pushing their voices down to form a blanket of white noise behind his thoughts. It’s a beautiful, sunny day out, and he can see a wide plains through the kitchen window, where chickens waddle around contently and some people run by chasing bees and each other, their yells faintly audible even where he sits.

  


Something about the faint laughter sparks a memory in his mind of a day spent by a beach, the breeze ruffling up his hair. He’s not sure what’s going on around him – everything has blurred as time progressed, and he figures this is a pretty early memory. There’s excited warbling to his left, an aura of purple particles on that side almost physically pulls him in, envelop him in a blanket of familiarity and belonging. To his right there’s human chatter and a hand holding a firm yet comfortable grip on his own, keeping him upright when he stumbles and swinging softly as they walk.

  


Multiple events blur together until the sun starts setting, and he’s placed on top of a horse, arms protectively wrapping around him from behind. He’s handed the reins and helps his father steer their steed across a plethora of small dirt roads and closing up villages. The enderman presence isn’t here this time, but something tells him it’s not far away, always lingering just outside his field of view.

  


It’s a safe memory, accompanied by feelings he’s only just starting to recognize. Ranboo smiles absent-mindedly as he glances at Quackity, standing in the well-lived kitchen made up mostly of spruce cabinets and countertops, giving everything a lovely vibe.

  


“-Think it’s stupid, honestly, but Eret’s doing a pretty good job.”

  


Quackity nods with conviction, pulling out a chair to sit down. “Oh yeah, definitely. Eret’s smashing it, considering the state of everything. It’s a miracle we haven’t found ourselves caught up in a war yet.”

  


“I would hate to see this town turn into a battlefield,” Schlatt agrees readily. “Would be terrible for the property value.”

  


Both men laugh at that and Ranboo smiles along uncertainly, wrecking his brain until he recalls that Eret is the duke of the surrounding area. They were supposed to be under the governing of a king, but the kingdom had fallen apart about a year back, leaving every province to fend for itself. It’s beyond Ranboo to know how something like this could even have happened in the first place, but apparently this place is as safe as it gets right about now. Marstown is situated only half a day’s walk from the duke’s castle, and its local guard is widely respected.

  


If it’s so widely respected, Ranboo can’t help but wonder why they would let an apparent alcoholic run the town, but the man must have some redeeming qualities. He seems pretty funny, in a unique sense, he supposes. Schlatt stills gives him the creeps a little, though, with his imposing aura and looks. His tendency to keep intense eye contact bothers him the most, and Ranboo is glad he’s been able to practically turn invisible since the beginning of the conversation.

  


By now, they seem to be wrapping up. Lunch has been eaten and Schlatt’s glass is empty, and he’s longingly eyeing his coat. Quackity doesn’t miss the mayor’s silent signals and nods understandingly at him. “I won’t keep you any longer, Schlatt. You just let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m almost done sorting through the town’s records, so you can have those back in a little while.”

  


“Sure thing,” Schlatt replies, eagerly making his way to the door. “Nice meeting you, Ranboo.”

  


Ranboo nods awkwardly at the ram hybrid and leans back as him and Quackity exchange goodbyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. His headache has started acting up, but there are some things he still wants to do before succumbing to the heaven that is his bed again. Besides, he’s been aiming to get out more, since he can’t exactly spend the rest of his days holed up in a room.

  


“So, I believe you haven’t told me your favorite color yet.” Quackity’s voice right next to his ear startles the ever-loving shit out of him, and he’s pretty sure he jumps pretty bad.

  


“Whoa- Holy crap. Did you have to sneak up on me like that?” Ranboo complains, placing a hand over his heart. Days ago a loud sound like that might have sent him into an ender-fit, with nothing but pure chaos and fear ensuing. Now, he’s almost proud to say that he doesn’t even panic. Quackity has grown on him with all his mannerisms, and he’s steadily getting more comfortable around the guy when he’s bouncing around, joking and screaming to whoever will listen.

  


Quackity snickers excitedly, leaning in to pick up the plates and working his way across the kitchen. “Sorry, sorry,” he rushes to say, quickly glancing over him to make sure he’s alright. Reassured by what he sees, he continues working. “Favorite color, though?”

  


Ranboo grins at the sudden burst of energy that fills the kitchen. Leave it to Quackity to make something cheerful out of every ordinary situation, find something to laugh about whenever. “I guess- I like green, and red? They’re pretty cool colors,” he muses, “but I don’t really have a favorite.. color, I guess?”

  


“Red and green are cool! We can work with that,” Quackity reassures him easily. He’s already progressed to drying off the plates now, before almost throwing them into the right cabinet, leaving Ranboo to wonder what those plates must be made off, if they survive such force on the regular.

  


“The entire room won’t be colored that though, right? I kind of like the walls and floor the way they are, and I really don’t think I need a bright green carpet,” he chuckles sheepishly. The current mix of rustic spruce and warm brick makes him feel right at home.

  


Finishing up his work already (how the heck did he do everything so fast?), Quackity looks at him. It’s a bit comical how he has to look up, even when Ranboo is still sitting. He hunches in on himself a little bit, making it easier for Quackity to come face to face with him. Not that they’re making eye contact – he’s not quite that comfortable yet, but it must be a lot more comfortable for Quackity not to have to crane his neck each time he wants to look at him.

  


The shorter man grins cheekily. “If you don’t want a green carpet, I’ll make sure to get you a bright red one.”

  


“You’re not being serious, are you?” Ranboo asks suspiciously, rising a bit in his chair.

  


Quackity gives him a deadly serious stare. “Do I look like I’m making a joke, Ranboo? I will buy you the brightest red carpet you have ever seen in your entire life.”

  


Ranboo claws at his face. “No! Please don’t do that to my poor eyes,” he pleads with exaggeration.

  


“Oh, you have no idea what’s coming, Ranboo,” Quackity giggles. “I have so many ideas! You’re gonna love it, let’s go!”

  


“’M gonna hate it is more like it,” Ranboo complains, though he can’t stop a smile from spreading on his face. How has he gotten so comfortable so quickly? It’s barely been two weeks since he stumbled upon these people’s doorstep, and now he’s in their kitchen laughing like it’s his own. Which, they’ve assured him, it can be for as long as he wants.

That’s probably it. He’s been offered a place to stay indefinitely – with no one forcing him to do anything or threatening him or else. Everything here is light-hearted and good, and though part of him still despises himself for that, he _loves_ it. And he’ll cherish every moment of this period of his life, being teased by someone who he’s already come to trust almost as much as he trusts himself.

  


“No, you’re gonna love it,” Quackity says insistently, pouring himself a glass of water. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he turns around, looking at him daringly.

  


“Am not,” Ranboo says, feeling a fit of laughter take hold of him immediately after he says that. They sound like two children bickering over something entirely unimportant. Which is surprisingly true, when he thinks about it.

  


The door clatters in the distance, just as Quackity responds. “Oh, it’s gonna be so awesome. Sapnap! We’re getting Ranboo a bright red carpet!”

  


“Any askers?” The answer rings immediately through the air, and Quackity’s face darkens.

  


“Y-You.. Sapnap, I thought I could trust you! What the hell, man?” He throws his arms in the air dramatically, his previous conversation completely forgotten as he stares at the hallway where Sapnap stands.

  


The blacksmith grins, plopping himself down on the couch. “Hi Ranboo,” he greets, completely ignoring an increasingly distressed Quackity.

  


“Hi Sapnap,” Ranboo greets back, entirely unsure what the heck is going on.

  


“I am going to murder you, Sapnap,” Quackity threatens with raging eyes. “You won’t even see what’s happening, that’s how fast I’ll be done with you.”

  


“That’s just because of how small you are, babe,” Sapnap answers easily, smug grin etched on his face.

  


Ranboo takes one look at Quackity’s face that’s darkening with bloodlust and decides it’s the perfect time to retreat to the guest- no, his room. Right? That’s what Quackity said, that they’re going to make the room his.

  


So it’s his room. Yeah.

  


As quick- and quietly as his ankle will allow him he slips into the hallway and his room. As soon as the door closes behind him, Ranboo heaves a sigh of relief, glancing over everything before shortly closing his eyes. Everything is still in the same state he left it. His bed sheets are an absolute mess on his bed with an additional two spare blankets piled on top of each other at the far end of it. The curtains are closed, though they allow for a small ray of light to enter, the rest of the room being illuminated by a lantern.

  


On his nightstand is his memory book. Since he got it a few days ago he’s been feverishly writing down everything that happens, and whatever memory returns to him at random. There’s not a lot in there yet – a page listing off his friends, two entries describing his day and a description of a scene he dreamt about the other night he’s pretty sure he’s seen before, though any attempt to recall the memory ends in a borderline panic attack, with emotions threatening to overwhelm him in an instant.

  


Ranboo sits on the bed, letting the red leather of the book slide through his fingers. It’s cool to the touch, as is the quill he picks up next. He spends a few moments contemplating the “flashback” he had earlier, eventually deciding to write it down as well. Might as well preserve as many good moments as possible on these pages while he can. Maybe they’ll help him through tough times in the future.


	6. A Picnic and a Lost Fiancée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl is on a trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days. To distract himself from worrying, Quackity takes Ranboo out on a picnic.

Quackity is not one to worry often or easily. He prides himself upon his calm, his perseverance and his strength, that have helped get him out of multiple dark places in his life. If he were torn apart by worry when shit happened to him, he would never have survived.

Quackity isn’t one to worry about himself, because that’s never helped him in his life. But when it comes to the people he loves, he feels his heart clench with worry more often than he’d like to admit.

The first time he found himself worrying about someone was when Sapnap showed up at his door a long time ago, covered in bruises, scrapes and various wounds Quackity was afraid to even look at. They were just friends at the time – hell, acquaintances would’ve been a better word to describe their relationship before that night. The blacksmith had still been in practice back then, always working late hours in the time over with his teacher. At least, that was what Quackity was always told. When Sapnap showed up that day, a whole other story came spilling out, and _boy_ , does he remember the feeling of rage burning all his caution.

Apparently, Sapnap’s good ol’ teacher ran his business built on fraud and cons, and whenever the consequences of his actions came knocking at his door, well, his pupil just so happened to be a beefy guy who had seen his fair share of fights.

Sapnap was always eager to please his teacher, and made sure the guys that showed up left with more than enough repayment. That night, however, a few of them had banded together, deciding it was time to right the wrongs brought upon them. It turned out the maximum amount of armed opponents Sapnap could take out with his hammer before being overtaken was three. He’d cover his head with his hands in shame when he told Quackity that, the day after.

His teacher hadn’t survived the ordeal, but they were so graceful as to let the student live, leaving him on the cobble floor, squirming in pain. Luckily Sapnap had a potion of regeneration in his possession, which was the only thing keeping him walking all the way back through the forests to his hometown, where he had no one to go to, and so turned to Quackity, someone he had barely even talked to.

Nowadays they look back at that moment with a much more optimistic view, knowing that that moment did so much to improve their relationship. Still, after all this time, anger and sadness, though now much more diluted, coil up in his stomach and cause a dull pang in his heart. He’ll never allow that to happen again, that much he knows for sure.

Perhaps it should worry him that he practically met one of his fiancées like that, but Quackity has always known that danger just seems to single out Sapnap every single time, and the blaze hybrid didn’t exactly use to be known for his caution, either. He’s improved on that a lot these days, luckily.

Quackity isn’t sure if he’d be able to handle worrying his ass off both of his fiancées every time they leave the house. He’d probably start acting all possessive like some dragon, locking them in their shared bedroom, only for him to enjoy and to keep safe.

Now, he knows that Karl’s.. job is perhaps more important than anything else in the world, but god damn that man keeps scaring the fuck out of him.

Quackity _knows_ that time is flexible, and that one day here might only be an hour whenever Karl has traveled to now, and so initially, it seems there’s nothing to worry about when his fiancée disappears for days at a time. But what he also knows is what time has taught him, ironically.

The longer Karl stays away, the worse his condition when he gets back. For every extra hour he forgets an extra thing, shivers a little more heavily into Sapnap’s warmth when he returns, and for every day Quackity can count an extra rib protruding from his skin, time traveling demanding so much of his already scarce reserves. 

It’s been a little over three days now. Though he tries as much as he can not to show Ranboo, Quackity is _worried_. Not only does he feel it, he notices it in his own behavior, the way he was up earlier than Sapnap this morning and prepared breakfast to feed everyone and then some, his gaze constantly drifting to one of the many windows. Every sound has him looking up in an instant, always looking for that brown puff of hair and colorful hoodie to show up.

It’s nearing lunchtime when Quackity decides it’s been enough. To distract himself, and also to make good on his promise to Ranboo, he offers to take the kid out to the fields, where they can have a picknick and do all the stuff a kid his age deserves to do. Heck, maybe Tommy and Tubbo will show up, and he’ll be able to introduce them to each other. Ranboo is quickly recovering, and it might be time for him to start meeting some other people, as long as he’s comfortable with that, of course.

Ranboo’s face brightens like a torch when Quackity shares his plans, and twenty minutes later they’re leaving out the front door, a picknick basket stuffed to the brim with food in Quackity’s hand and a blanket in Ranboo’s.

The boy’s bi-colored eyes twinkle with excitement, yet he makes himself smaller and smaller as they step out onto the street. Quackity can only imagine what he’s feeling right about now, and tactfully leads them down a path that circles around the village. It’s a pretty route to walk, if a bit longer. Birch trees line the path on both sides, providing shadow from the watery sun. In summer it’s a literal life saver, but around these times it’s just nice not to have the sun temporarily blind him whenever he has to look up at Ranboo.

If Karl were here, he’d undoubtedly make some remark about the height difference between Ranboo and him, purely to get on his nerves. Knowing himself, Quackity is pretty sure it would work, too.

But Karl isn’t here, and Quackity takes it upon himself to share some of his fiancée’s love and experience when it comes to greenery with Ranboo, casually telling him about the flowers nestling between the trees and the occasional mushroom they come across. Quackity is pretty sure Ranboo has seen it all before, but he listens with an intrigued look, like it’s a gripping story of some kind, and not someone with barely any experience about the things he’s talking about trying to explain the difference between mushrooms that grow on trees and those that grow on the ground.

It is nice to have someone who will listen to him with undivided attention for a change, if he’s completely honest with himself. Sapnap and Karl are wonderful and the best thing to ever happen to him, but they tend to be a little overeager to give their own two cents whenever he’s talking about something, and he finds it surprisingly pleasant to just have someone to who he can ramble on about whatever subject pops to his mind, Ranboo only occasionally popping in with a question or something he noticed.

They set up under a large oak tree in the middle of a large field. Grass reaching heights as tall as his waist surrounds them, peacefully rippling in the wind. The river is just barely within sight, and every now and again they can hear faint yells or laughter coming from that side. Sapnap told him the other day that Puffy’s ship would be leaving today for the last time this season, to get one more journey in before the winter storms would make the sea practically impossible to traverse. Knowing Puffy, she’ll make the most out of this one and stay out as long as the weather will allow, which, with one look up, Quackity guesses not to be much more than a few weeks tops. Then again, he really has no knowledge on this type of thing at all.

He talks happily away with Ranboo about piracy and lords and ladies, and the riches they hide under their enormous egos and castles. Ranboo tells him a story about a carriage that once passed him when he was walking along a paved road. The lady had, in her own words ‘never seen a hybrid in the wild’, and insisted on having him join in her carriage, where she tried to persuade him to start working under her. “She wanted to make me her little circus monkey,” Ranboo grins, “can you imagine that?”

Between mutton sandwiches, juicy apples and light-hearted conversation, time slips away like sand through his fingers. Before Quackity knows it they’re packing up, almost ready to go home when two familiar figures appear in the distance.

Quackity looks at them, then at his companion. “Hey, Ranboo, wanna meet some people?” he gestures over to the two boys, who are rapidly approaching, apparently caught up in a chase of sorts.

Ranboo takes one look at them and his eyes widen momentarily before he regains control, heaving a sigh. “It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?”

“Seems like it,” Quackity shrugs when he sees the way Tubbo is curiously cocking his head at Ranboo. “They’re nice people, if that’s of any reassurance,” he whispers before Tommy and Tubbo can get within hearing distance. “If you get uncomfortable, just tell me, all right?”

Taking a deep breath, Ranboo nods thankfully at him before looking at his two new tormentors, ducking his head unintentionally.

He keeps on making himself so small, Quackity notes with disdain. Maybe he should try and find a way to make Ranboo a bit more confident, though that seems like a tough hill to climb. It’ll probably come with time, anyways, and he really doesn’t have to worry about such things now.

“Ay, big Q!” Tommy greets, promptly echoed by Tubbo. If the two didn’t look so different, at times they might as well have been one and the same person.

“Hi guys,” Quackity greets back, readjusting his beanie.

“Who are you?” Tommy asks Ranboo, his attention drawn immediately drawn to the hybrid he’s never seen before, inspecting him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m Ranboo,” he answers uncomfortably, shifting his weight unconsciously at wincing slightly as his still slightly swollen ankle receives all the pressure, immediately leaning back.

“I’m Tommy, and this is Tubbo,” Tommy replies, gesturing with his hand to his companion. Quackity doesn’t miss how he subtly tries to stand a little taller, always one to seek to be the top dog.

Tubbo waves at him. “Hi! Are you an enderman hybrid?”

Ranboo recoils slightly at the question and Quackity is ready to jump in when the hybrid gives him a small nod. “It’s alright,” he mumbles softly, before redirecting his attention to Tommy and Tubbo. “I am. I would ask you how you figured that out so quickly, but you know...” he gestures down to his own body with a small chuckle, and Quackity bites back a grin as Tommy and Tubbo laugh as well.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that hard to figure out,” Tubbo muses. “I’m a ram hybrid! Would you like to see my horns?”

Glancing up, Ranboo watches the smaller boy with cautious interest. “You have horns?”

“Yeah!” Tubbo chirps, and brushes back his hair to reveal two moderately large stumps, his horns far from being full-grown.

“They’re small horns, they are,” Tommy chips in, elbowing Tubbo. “If I were a ram hybrid, I’d have the biggest horns. You could impale people on them, they’d be that big.”

“I don’t think they grow like that,” Ranboo speaks up uncertainly, raising his voice at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

Tommy’s face darkens, but Tubbo speaks up too fast for Ranboo to pick up on it. “Yeah! My dad’s a ram hybrid too, his horns twirl ‘round real crazy. You should see it someday,” he grins.

“Is your dad Schlatt? ‘Cause I’ve met him.” Ranboo fiddles with the hem of his shirt, but Quackity is pretty sure he’s just a bit nervous, not uncomfortable.

Tubbo perks up. “Oh?”

“He came by for a chat a few days ago,” Quackity supplies.

Tubbo’s face scrunches up. “Huh. Cool! Didn’t know he was allowed to leave the office during the day,” he shrugs.

“Tubbo, he’s the mayor! He can do whatever the fuck he wants,” Tommy adds, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I know, I know! But I just thought they had some rules about that or something, you know?”

“I guess not,” Ranboo chuckles, and Tubbo nods.

A bit of a sad expression flashes on his face before he smiles again, looking up a comical amount to be able to look at Ranboo’s face. “Well, he’s in his office now! We were just heading over to my house to get some food and watch a movie. Would you like to come with?”

“We’re gonna watch Avengers: Endgame,” Tommy says, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Uh,” Ranboo says, looking back at him questioningly, and Quackity perks up, nodding with a smile. With a small smile of his own he looks back at the duo. “Sure, why not?”

At that moment it hits Quackity how much Ranboo is treating him like a father figure of sorts – and how he feels sort of the same way, too. It’s almost comical, really, considering the relatively small age gap and the fact that he’s known him for literal weeks, but hey. He can’t deny it feels good to see the progress he’s made in such a short time.

Tommy grins excitedly, gesturing for Ranboo to come with them. “You’re gonna love it, big man,” he promises with delight.

Ranboo makes a skeptical sound. “We’ll see, I guess,” he says.

Quackity notices the way his posture seems a lot less tense, and that’s the last bit of confirmation he needs to let Ranboo go off with them. “Be home in time for dinner!” He reminds him, and Ranboo glances back to nod at him, smiling thankfully.

“It’s a crime that you’re so tall,” Tubbo complains in his whiny voice as they start walking towards the town. “How am I meant to threaten you when you could just.. stomp on me?”

“I’d rather you don’t threaten me at all, actually,” Ranboo answers, earning him a hearty laugh from Tommy, who, surprisingly sensibly, refrains from clapping him on his back unexpectedly. Quackity watches as they walk away, finding himself smile at empty air. He’s happy for Ranboo. The kid deserves some friends, and Tommy and Tubbo – if a bit chaotic – are wonderful people.

Quackity stares at their receding figures for a while before he finishes gathering everything up. He can feel his limbs starting to weigh him down, the activities of the day catching up with his body and mind, a familiar numbness approaching him.

His low energy reserve is a remainder of a bad virus he got when he was fourteen. Though he recovered pretty well considering he never saw a single doctor or person with medical experience, his body never really got back to its old properties.

He’s been dealing with it for years, now, and he’s gotten good at pacing himself. On normal days he’ll be his usual, energetic self for a few hours at a time before retreating to his room for a bit of rest, the process usually repeating two to three times throughout the day. Today he’s been continuously in motion since the moment he woke up, though, and now the consequences are catching up to him.

He’ll just have to take it easy for the rest of the day, make his way calmly back home and maybe take a nap before he gets started on dinner. Any other day, Karl would have gladly taken that task upon himself, but the man is still nowhere to be found.

Quackity heaves a soft sigh, lifting up the picnic basket and shoving the blanket in there as well. Even with the added weight, it’s luckily considerably lighter than on the way here.

Taking the shortest path home, he crosses the field in a slightly different direction now, starting on his way home with the forest to his left.

The walk starts off peaceful: the birds that aren’t already trekking through the sky and will stay here through the winter perch high above him in the trees, chirping away busily. Dry leaves crisp pleasantly under his boots, the sun is on his back. It’s a nice walk, and Quackity allows himself to sink into a calm walking rhythm, taking step after slow step, taking care not to rush himself.

He’s halfway to the town when he hears something to his left. Initially it’s just sticks breaking and leaves rustling, and he’s about to shrug it off as another animal when he hears something else, a lot more muffled, so much so that he can’t identify it.

Curious despite his fatigue, Quackity nears the border of the forest. Tall trees warp their shadows over each other, creating dark spots where mobs may already be spawning. He hopes to good it’s not the sizzling of a creeper he just heard, a walking green piece of tnt is not something he wants to deal with right now (sorry, Sam).

The sound grows louder as Quackity steps into the forest, tensing himself to pick up on every sound. “Hello? Anyone here?”

There’s no response, but the sound doesn’t stop. When Quackity realizes what he’s hearing his heart nearly stops, his stomach twisting in dread. That’s breathing he’s hearing, troubled, uneven breathing and muffled sobs he recognizes all too well... Fuck.

“Karl?” he asks loudly, a rush of adrenaline bringing him closer to his fiancée’s ragged breaths with every second. “ _Karl?_ Baby, where are you? Can you hear me?”

He’s not really expecting an answer, and it doesn’t surprise him that it stays silent. Stumbling over roots he follows the sound, desperate to make sure Karl is alright.

When he passes a tree, he notices a figure curled in on himself leaning heavily against it, wearing a hoodie he recognizes all too well. Quackity comes to a stop, dropping the picnic basket next to him.

Looking over his shaking fiancée, he has to stop himself from melting into his arms. Instead he follows the plan they made for situations like these. He crouches down close to Karl, tentatively placing a hand on his knee. “Hey, can you breathe for me?” he asks, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Karl looks up at him, his puffy eyes wide with panic and fear. He shakes his head, his sobs only growing louder now he’s not drowning them out in the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Okay, okay. Hey, focus on me, okay? You’re safe, you’re in the right timeline. You don’t have to do anything, just breathe with me.” Quackity takes a deep breath, ignoring the burning of his lungs from his previous exertion, and the way his vision swims before his eyes. He’ll be alright, Karl is what matters right now.

With deep breaths and a calming voice he eventually calms Karl down, hating how experienced he is at this. When his lover can look at him somewhat clearly again he reaches for the med kit he packed in the basket as a precaution, thankful to have brought it with him. He’s not sure if Karl is even physically hurt at all, but he has to keep his hands moving if he wants to avoid collapsing against him. “Do you know who I am?” he asks, making sure to keep his movement slow.

Karl gives him a pained look. “You’re familiar to me,” he says with an unstable voice, “but I don’t remember how.”

Quackity’s heart jumps slightly in his chest. Karl isn’t completely lost this time, he knows how to handle this. “I’m Quackity,” he starts, “does that ring any bells? Are you hurt, by the way?”

“My hand,” he motions after a short pause, holding up his hand to show a fairly deep gash across his palm. Quackity hisses softly before taking the hand between his own two to inspect it. When Karl subconsciously curls his fingers around his own he practically melts.

“I don’t.. I know there’s something,” Karl whispers frustratedly, “but it’s all so vague, like, I _just_ can’t reach it.”

Quackity hums, turning his hand slightly. He’ll have to clean the gash before he bandages it, and back in town he’ll lead them by Phil, to get it stitched and treated properly. “That’s okay, I’ll just start at the beginning. This will sting, by the way,” he warns before he begins cleaning the gash, and Karl nods with clenched teeth.

“You’re Karl Jacobs,” he begins patiently, popping the lid of the rubbing alcohol. “You live in Marstown with me and Sapnap. We’re-”

“-Engaged,” Karl finishes with a surprised breath.

Quackity looks up with a surprised smile. “You got it quickly,” he compliments him.

Karl nods absent-mindedly, clearly struggling with other facts about this timeline.

“How about we go home and get some rest first, and then you can ask all the questions you want, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Karl agrees easily. “I’m tired.”

After finishing his hand, Quackity slings Karl’s arm over his shoulders, allowing the taller man to lean on him, feeling his knees nearly buckle under their combined weight. He wonders who will be the first person to call him out for being so reckless, risking fainting just so he can get Karl home as quickly as possible. Depending on who he meets first, it’ll either be Phil or Sapnap. “Me too, baby,” he answers soothingly. “We’ll be home in a few minutes.”

With that he begins the ten minute long challenge of trying to keep himself and Karl upright as they stumble towards the village. Just as they step onto the paved road Sapnap leaves his shop, spotting them immediately.

“Wha- Oh my god, Karl. Are you okay?” He rushes over to them, enveloping both of them in a tight hug.

Quackity’s body trembles with relief when Sapnap gets Karl to lean against him, the latter mumbling something against his chest. He leans against his fiancée, too, but makes sure not to overwhelm Sapnap. He can keep himself standing for a few more minutes, it’ll be fine.

“I was just taking him to Phil,” Quackity informs Sapnap as he stands up again, and they start walking. The picnic basket feels oddly light in his hand, now, as does his entire body. It’s almost like he’s floating towards the horizon, drifting away from paved roads and cozy homes. “Karl’s got a pretty deep gash on his hands, it probably needs stitches.”

Sapnap nods. “We’ll go there first then.”

The three of them make their way to a street with a row of three identical houses next to each other, the middle one inhabited by Phil and Tommy. The older man rushes them inside as soon as he opens the door to them. He’s been in these situations before with them, and he knows they want nothing more than to go home and get some rest, so he doesn’t waste any time making small talk, instead leading Karl into the kitchen immediately.

Sapnap takes his seat on the couch and Quackity slumps against him, on the brink of collapsing himself. When Sapnap notices, he sits up slightly and slings his arm around him. “Q, you didn’t push yourself too far, did you?”

Quackity sighs as he snuggles closer. “I didn’t have much of a choice. It was getting dark when I found Karl, I wasn’t about to just leave him in the forest.”

When Sapnap doesn’t respond, Quackity deflates slightly. “Please don’t be mad,” he mumbles softly.

“I’m not, baby girl. I know you had no other choice, I’m just worried.” Sapnap presses a small kiss to his forehead at that, and Quackity hums in understanding.

In the time it takes Phil to patch up Karl, Quackity barely manages to keep his eyes open. When Phil walks back into the living room, supporting an equally as tired-looking Karl, he chuckles softly. “Do you want me to walk with you?” he asks Sapnap, who chuckles softly as he glances from Quackity to Karl, both his fiancées dead on their feet.

“I would appreciate that,” he nods thankfully.

Quackity looks up, wondering if he should protest. Normally he’s completely opposed to being coddled in public, but he already knows fighting Sapnap now would result in him losing within a minute, so he keeps his mouth shut as Sapnap rises, pulling him up as well. At least Sapnap doesn’t lift him up bridal style, knowing that Quackity is less than comfortable with that sort of stuff in public.

“You ready to go?” he asks him in a soft tone, and Quackity nods.

It takes them less than three minutes to reach the border of the village, where Sapnap opens the door to their house and leads him straight to the bedroom. Quackity kicks off his shoes with a foggy mind before crawling under the covers, soon joined by Karl, who pulls him against his chest like he’s holding a teddy bear. He just manages to take note of how affectionate Karl gets when he’s tired before he drifts off into a wonderful sleep.


	7. Enderchest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo spirals into a panic attack and meets a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic Attack  
> Please don't read anything that is potentially triggering for you, take care of yourself friends <3

Ranboo is half asleep by the time the movie wraps up. It’s been a while since he’s been up and about for this amount of time, and it’s pretty easy to drift off with a blanket spread over his lap and a movie playing on the background.

This is the first time he’s heard or seen such a thing – apparently this time it’s not due to his memory problems, though. Tommy told him that Fundy, another citizen in town and apparently his nephew, was pretty much a god when it came to technical elements, and he’d made this invention not too long ago.

Despite his marvel at.. well, everything really, he only managed to stay alert until about halfway through the movie. At that point, Tubbo was blearily looking at the projector through half-closed eyes as well, his head leaning on Tommy’s shoulder, the blonde being the only one who was still properly awake. He didn’t seem to mind it, though, he just kept excitedly pointing out this or that, making Ranboo force his eyes open time and time again.

Pushing the blanket to the side, Ranboo stretches and gets up. Tommy is happily chattering away about the movie, falling silent when his eyes fall on him. “Are you leaving already?”

Tubbo opens his eyes at that, too, blinking at him confusedly. Ranboo gives them an apologetic shrug. “Quackity told me to be home before dinner, and it looks like that’s already going to be a close call.” He gestures out the window, where the moon is peeking just over the edge of the forest.

“So do you really live with them?” Tommy asks with a frown. “Are you Sapnap’s family? You kind of look like it.” He squints his eyes and tilts his head, giving him a scrutinizing look.

Ranboo turns a bit, taking a step towards the door. Tommy’s stare makes his stomach twist, but he can’t muster up the courage to disappoint him twice in one minute. At some point in the future, he’ll have to tell them about his endermen things and memory problems, but that moment is not now. “No,” he tries, raising his voice slightly. “I just kind of, showed up here? And then they took me in.”

He expects a lot of responses when he says that. A sample of what he’s been used to: judging stares, incredulous exclamations, being pushed away. Honestly, he’s ready for hell to start raining down on him. That’s probably just because he worries too much, though, even he knows that he goes too far sometimes.

Still, it’s a pleasant surprise when Tubbo shrugs and Tommy grins at him. “We have the same backstory, man! Phil took me in, too, when I was a child.”

Seeing the fiery look in Tommy’s eyes, ready to defend his statement, Ranboo decides to avoid pointing out that they’re all still, technically, children. Instead he nods, smiling slightly. “I heard some things about Phil, he sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah! I’d definitely let myself get adopted by him if I could,” Tubbo chips in, sitting up a little straighter. “D’you want us to walk home with you, Ranboo? Tommy needs to go in that direction, anyway.”

“Aw! You’re making me leave already Tubbo? This is outrageous,” Tommy protests, crossing his arms.

“No, I’m not! I was thinking maybe I could come over to yours for a bit, after?” Tubbo asks with barely suppressed hope.

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Yes! You can eat with us if you want, Phil wouldn’t mind.” He jumps up, dragging Tubbo up as well.

Apparently the decision has been made. Ranboo stares at the two of them, blinks once and lets his confusion go, instead putting on his coat and waiting for Tubbo to do the same.

Once everyone is ready and Tubbo has scribbled a somewhat intelligible note to his dad, they take to the streets. They’re almost completely empty. Everyone is probably inside, enjoying their dinner right about now. Feeling his own stomach act up in hunger, Ranboo finds himself relieved he’s going home, where he’ll hopefully be met with a nice, warm dinner.

They halt before a row of three identical houses, Tommy making his way towards the middle one. “This is where I live,” he explains with a proud smile.

“Looks cool,” Ranboo says, noting the abundant use of stone bricks on the two-story house and the smoking chimney. It must never get too cold inside, he muses, harshly stomping down on his irrational feelings of longing. He has a house too, now, and it’s just as warm and cozy inside as in this one. There’s no need for those feelings anymore, and he ushers them far away from his conscience. “This is where I continue alone, then?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nods. “Or do you want us to walk with you?” Surprisingly there’s no sneer or trace of malice detectable in his voice, though Ranboo is pretty sure it would be ridiculous to ask them to walk the remaining minute with him.

Ignoring the part that wants to keep their company as long as possible, he shakes his head. “No, it’s alright,” he answers, “I’ll be fine.” He can already see the roof, it should be fine. “Thanks for asking me to come along.” A small smile finds its way onto his face, and the two boys in front of him are quick to reciprocate.

“Of course! You can come with us more often, if you’d like,” Tubbo says with an excited smile. His face is open and full of genuine friendliness. Ranboo wonders what he’s done to deserve this kindness all of a sudden.

“Oh, sure! I’d like that,” he answers. “I’ll.. see you guys around, then?”

Tubbo nods. “See you around, big man!”

“Bye Ranboo!” Tommy calls as he turns around, a small smile still on his face.

Gosh, how long has it been since he’s felt this good? After what he can only describe as the worst luck possible hitting him in the face over and over again, it’s like the universe is playing into his hands, the winds having turned in his favor.

It’s almost surreal, really, and unbelievable how quick his fate can change. Right now he’s walking home to his three.. friends? To his family? – a month ago he was more lonely than the Dragon. He has a roof over his head and doesn’t have to worry about mobs shooting him or wolfs chasing the scent of his blood, there’s no branches cutting his face or roots scheming to topple him over as he walks down the path of the village. Darkness itself is less dangerous now that there’s lanterns every few blocks to dispel it.

With one small decision and a whole load of coincidence, Ranboo’s entire world was flipped from darkness into light. And the thing is.. he didn’t have any control over it. It was chance, luck, fortune; whatever you want to call it. None of it was thanks to him, no matter how hard he’s tried in the past to find a home. It was the universe, deciding to push him in this direction today.

Now he has so much, pretty much all he’s ever wanted. What’s to say he won’t just lose it all again? His life is in the universe’s hands, and it hasn’t shown him much kindness at all. What’s to say the house won’t burn down tonight and he’ll be blamed? He’ll lose anything he’s been building here in an instant.

Ranboo stops in front of his home, feeling sick. Uncomfortable familiar shivers run down his spine, his stomach feels like there’s a knot in it. _Shit._

Everything, _everything_ he’s looking at now, considers as a part of his life, could be gone tomorrow. He’s only just getting to know this life, and for all he knows he’s already arrived at the last station. So many things could go wrong, _he_ can do so many things to mess this up..

The scary thing is that he knows it’ll only take one thing, one tiny nudge of fate to send him hurtling down a cliff. One poorly timed comment or a revelation of someone’s true intentions; accidentally getting framed for something, or worse, accidentally doing something terrible. Raids reaching this town and violently tearing it apart. Accidents. Murders. Natural disasters, floods, drought, famine.

Mistakes. Accidents. Fate.

He’s going to lose everything, isn’t he?

His knees start to buckle underneath him, and Ranboo just barely manages to sit down himself before he fully collapses, too dizzy to continue standing up straight. Strained breaths turn into coughs as he chokes on his own breath, a bird perched on a nearby lantern takes off in alarm at the loud sound.

Everything is too small, too tight. His insides are tying themselves in knots and everything is too cold, too heavy. Violent shivers jerk through his body, each one leaving him feeling more like a black hole is sucking away at his warmth, his happiness.

Ranboo curls in on himself. He’s losing control, out on the street, in front of his house, _and_ night is falling. His own heavy breaths heat up his knees through the fabric of his clothing, and he desperately focuses on the sensation.

He takes in a deep breath, pressing his palms against his eyes. _Don’t cry._

_You’re going to lose everything you’re going to lose everything you’re going to lose everything you’re go-_

Warmth touches his knees from his breaths. He channels all his attention to the sensation. 

_It’s all lost. You’re going to lose everything. It’s all lost._

He has to stay focused, he can’t lose control. Gasping breaths turn more and more ragged, the lack of oxygen making stars swim before his eyes. It feels like he’s floating, yet the ground is freezing against him through his pants.

_You’re lost._

Something pushes against his leg. He has to keep on breathing.

_You’ll always be lost._

Breathe. Breathe, _Breathe._ Something furry brushes against his knuckles once, then again. A tear rolls down his cheek and he winces, hastily wiping it off and suppressing his tears as best as he can. Opening his eyes, he looks at the intruder that’s rubbing against his lower leg through a hazy blur. A small, black kitten looks at him curiously, its snout infinitely tiny. It mewls softly and rubs against his lower leg again before waddling over to his lap.

Hesitantly, Ranboo frees a hand and hold it up. It shakes violently and the kitten ducks away at first, but he keeps it there patiently. After a few moments of tentative silence the kitten cocks its head and sniffs at his index finger curiously.

Ranboo watches with baited breath as his hand is thoroughly inspected and sniffed, mesmerized by the little animal’s presence. His heart clenches when the kitten abruptly stops its explorations only to promptly plop its head onto his hand.

He stares at it uncertainly at first, so many emotions fighting for the reins in his head. Then a small smile breaks through on his face as he carefully brings up his other hand to pet the kitten, one careful finger stroking over its fragile body.

The combination of everything happening is enough to bring tears to his eyes, and finally he finds himself unable to stop them. He presses the sleeve of his free arm against his cheeks, knowing that it’ll soak up at least some of the liquid. The bit that’s left will leave marks on his face for a day or two, but at least it won’t draw blood or sting too bad. A dull pain spreads slowly below his eyes and he lets himself cry in silence, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s crying for now. He should still be freaking out over, well, everything, and part of him is, but somehow this little kitten has made the worst of it pass. Ranboo gives it a teary smile and it blinks slowly at him, a small purr spreading through its tiny body. The sensation spreads through his hand and arm, grounding him. 

Finally he can feel his heartbeat start to slow down, too, and just as he’s about to lift the kitten into his lap, the door opens and Sapnap comes rushing out. The man looks beyond worried, and Ranboo already knows there won’t be much he can say to soothe his nerves. “Ranboo! Are you okay?”

Ranboo takes a deep breath. Petting the furry ball now curled against his stomach, he looks at Sapnap. “I’m.. alright now, I think.”

For a few moments Sapnap’s expression rapidly changes. Ranboo’s heart skips a beat when he sees a flash of fiery frustration cross his face, but it soon settles on a well-controlled calm, and he breathes with relief. Having made up his mind, Sapnap nods and crouches down next to him, his eyes widening when he sees the kitten in his lap. “Who have you got there?”

With an awkward chuckle, Ranboo tries to figure out how to explain this one. At first he debates only telling him about the kitten – but it’s Sapnap, and with the genuine curiosity and kindness exuding from him, Ranboo figures he deserves to hear the rest of the story as well, even if it’s as non-descriptive as possible. “I was uh, walking back home from Tommy and Tubbo when I got really overwhelmed all of a sudden. I went to sit down here and was panicking pretty bad, when this one showed up. I don’t know.. why, or to who it belongs, but it pretty much shocked me out of my thoughts.”

“That’s.. adorable,” Sapnap whispers, looking at the raven-colored furry ball a bit before looking up. Worry flashes across his features when he sees the marks on his face that accompany his red, puffy eyes. “Ranboo, your cheeks. I- Can you come inside so I can get the cream for your burns?”

Ranboo nods. He debates what to do with the small animal for a while, eventually coming to a decision. Swallowing, he looks at Sapnap nervously. “Can.. the kitten come too, please?”

Sapnap opens and closes his mouth, looks around and back at him. “Did it just come walking up to you? No mother or siblings?”

Ranboo shakes his head, and Sapnap looks back at the kitten, his doubts melting away visibly. “Sure, then the kitten can come too,” he relents, probably figuring out how he’s going to explain this one to his fiancées. _“Oh, yeah, I just found Ranboo sitting on the road with that kitten and figured, why not take in another orphan?”_

The kitten moves slightly when he repositions it so he can stand up comfortably, Sapnap offering him an arm. “Karl and Q are asleep,” he says as they walk up to the door, “I just started on dinner.”

Ranboo hums, settling on the couch with his kitten in contentment. Sapnap disappears for a moment only to reappear with the distilled magma cream, and Ranboo silently thanks this Puffy woman that provided him with it. He sits perfectly still as Sapnap lightly applies some, soon feeling its healing properties do their magic and soothing his pain until it’s nearly nonexistent.

After that it’s mostly quiet between him and Sapnap as they both go about their own business, the two of them caught up in their own minds. Ranboo distracts himself from his onsetting headache and the insistent uncomfortable feeling that still lingers in his abdomen with his newest friend.

He figures out the kitten is a girl, and toys around with multiple names he might call her. To him there’s no doubt – this kitten belongs to him as much as he belongs to her. Unless her mother is somehow still alive, shows up and drags her back to her nest, there’s no way he’s letting his kitten go back out there. He holds her protectively against his chest, finding peace in the way her purrs vibrate against his chest, finding himself nearly drift off there and then multiple times.

It’s a good few minutes spent in silence, and then him and Sapnap softly start talking and it’s arguably even better.

Both Quackity and Karl are exhausted, Sapnap tells him, and they went to take a nap before dinner together. Karl returned from his travel a bit earlier, when he was still with Tommy and Tubbo.

Feeling the heaviness in his own limbs, Ranboo thinks that a nap doesn’t sound so bad. Dinner is ready just as he’s about to readjust his position on the couch, though, so instead of getting into a more comfortable position he drags himself upwards, taking his kitten with him.

Sapnap disappears to wake up Quackity and Karl, and Ranboo is feeding the kitten small pieces of chicken when they appear in the door opening. They both freeze, widening their sleepy eyes in surprise.

“Ranboo? What is that?” Quackity asks, cocking his head.

“It’s.. a cat?” Ranboo answers, cupping his hands around her tiny body to prevent her from eating every piece of chicken on the table. “She came to me on the street today.”

Sapnap sits down next to him, booping the kitten’s nose with his index finger. “She’s adorable,” he adds, keeping his gaze fixed solely on her.

The kitten purrs softly as she rubs against his hand, and he smiles at Ranboo triumphantly. Ranboo smiles back, melting at how carefully he’s holding her in his large hands, and how content she seems to rub her chin against his thumb repeatedly.

Seeing how well Sapnap has warmed up to her, Karl approaches curiously and offers his bandaged hand to the kitten. Ranboo shortly wonders what happened to it, but it soon distracted when she sniffles at the hand and then sneezes adorably. Everyone coos at her and Karl squeals excitedly. “Q. Come over here right now. This is the cutest thing ever. I swear to God, I just want to hold her forever.”

Quackity walks over with poorly hidden curiosity, takes one look at the kitten and sighs in defeat. “Well, I guess I can say goodbye to being the cutest here.”

Sapnap grins at that, and Karl swats Quackity softly on his beanie. Quackity raises his eyebrows in challenge, but Karl has nothing to say to that, and he focuses his attention on the kitten, once again in Ranboo’s hands, instead. He looks at her curiously, then meets Ranboo’s gaze shortly. “You are planning on keeping her, right Ranboo?”

“Uh, I was just about to ask that to you guys, actually, but if you’re all alright with it… of course I want to keep her,” he smiles, rubbing the kitten behind her ear.

“Great!” Karl claps in his hands and takes his seat, easily moving on. “We’ll get supplies and make some ground rules, like _no letting the kitten on the table during dinner_ , tomorrow. For now though, have you thought of a name?”

Ranboo smiles at the emphasis on the phrase and allows his kitten to hop onto his chest, where she balls up between his legs happily. “Actually, I have,” he confirms, allowing her to play with his index finger. “I’m thinking of naming her Enderchest.”


	8. Bakery's Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl takes Ranboo out into town. For their first stop they have breakfast at the local bakery, where Ranboo gets a glimpse into Karl's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is a bit of a shorter chapter, but I'm still pretty happy with it overall!

The next day, Karl offers to take him into town to get some supplies for Enderchest. He decides to make a whole trip of it, too, deciding they should get up early to have breakfast at the local bakery before heading farther into town. “You’ll love the bakery,” he promises as he hands Ranboo his coat, already excited even when he’s still rubbing sleep from his eyes. “And the baker, too, she’s such a wonderful person.”

Closing the door behind him silently (Sapnap and Quackity are still fast asleep), Karl leads him through town. The streets are still eerily quiet, the world is only just starting to wake up. Ranboo shivers in his coat. The sun’s first peek over the horizon starts showering the world in a cool, golden light, banishing the impersonal gray mood that always marks the line between night and dawn.

Karl leads him to a stop in the town’s main street, where almost every shop and workplace can be found, including the bakery. Ranboo recognizes it immediately. If the delicious smell wafting through the open door isn’t enough of an indication, a board hangs out in front of the door with a loaf of bread depicted on it, and underneath that a sign that reads _Niki’s Bakery_. It’s decorated with neat tiny doodles of flowers, bees and birds, each one impressively detailed and unique.

“This is it,” Karl says, keeping his voice silent as to not break the fragile morning peace that’s draped over their shoulders. Ranboo approaches the open door and steps through it, only having to lower his head ever so slightly.

The first thing coming to his mind when he walks in through the arched doorway is that the room looks like a reincarnated sunrise. Everything is soft – three of the walls are painted off-white, the other one being a pastel shade of salmon or pink, and it’s filled with delicately framed pictures, paintings and messages. The baseboards and the arch are painted a little lighter than the white walls, just enough to give a bit of contrast. Sunlight streams in through the open windows, accompanied by a constant gentle breeze of air and the whistling of nearby awakening birds.

Ranboo takes a deep breath. Even though he’s just stepped inside a building, it almost feels like this is an extension of nature – everything feels natural and easy, it’s as if even the air is lighter and easier to breathe.

There’s two round tables to one side of the bakery, and Karl nudges him towards one of them. A checkered white-and-yellow table cloth is smoothly draped over the surface. Sitting down, he moves his hands over it, surprised when the cloth is grainy and slightly rough against his hands. He continues to toy with it nonetheless, finding the constant motions of his hands relaxing as he scans the room.

The rustic white window sills, shelves and tables are all adorned with plants, and though Ranboo doesn’t recognize the types of plants, he is able to see that they’re flourishing, their leaves and petals all beautiful in the golden light. Now he understands why Karl wanted to come here at this time – the early morning light streaming in through the windows only makes the place seem more ethereal.

Opposite the archway that leads into the bakery is the display, and a door behind the counter that probably leads to wherever the baker – Niki lives. Multiple bowls behind the glass are already filled, and Ranboo’s mouth starts watering as he stares at all the delights that don’t only please his eyes, but make his stomach growl eagerly too, as he’s reminded of its emptiness.

He continues to look at the room, noting little details until his eye falls upon a particular picture. He draws Karl’s attention with a tap on his shoulder, pointing at it. “Is that you on that picture?”

Karl squints as he looks for the picture, his mouth curling up into a distant smile as he finds it. The picture is taken on a cloudy day, with six people posing in the frame. On the back row, there are two women, looking the most mature of the group. A woman with wild, curly white hair, an all-knowing smile and a red jacket has her arm slung around the shoulders of a slightly shorter girl, who seems to be a bit younger. The tips of her golden blonde hair are dyed light pink and she has bangs that barely stay clear of her large brown eyes, her entire face smiling warmly to the camera. Four boys are crouched in front of them, one on the left, one on the right and two in the middle, one leaning over the other’s shoulder.

The boy on the left is the one Ranboo guesses to be Karl, a lanky boy with wild, curly hair and an untamed look on his face, making peace signs with both his hands and grinning excitedly. In the middle a boy in a blue tee crouched on the grass, white goggles on his brown hair so his eyes are visible as he looks up at his friend with fond exasperation. His friend, the one leaning over his shoulder, is wearing a green hoodie and a porcelain smiley mask, and has his thin arms slung around blue tee’s waist. The boy on the right is crouched right in front of the girl with pink hair, a long, brown coat pooling in the grass around his feet. He’s smiling and squinting his eyes ever so slightly, almost as if he’s looking right through the lens of the camera. Ranboo gives him a tentative smile back before he can stop himself, as he listens to Karl.

“Yeah.” Karl clears his throat, and when he speaks there’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Those are my friends and I, I think, eight years ago? Puffy had just returned from Eret’s coronation and she agreed to take all of us out to sail the nearby coast for a week.”

“That was a wonderful week,” a new voice pipes in, and Ranboo swirls his head around to see the pink-haired girl on the picture standing in front of him, still with that warm smile, the only difference being that she looks more mature now, and the bangs are gone. “I’m Niki,” she introduces herself, offering him her hand.

Ranboo shakes it, wondering where to look. “Ranboo,” he responds, trying to keep his nervousness from showing in his voice. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thank you!” She smiles, turning to look at the wall. “I always say that nothing is more important than keeping the good things close to you,” she starts, her eyes gliding over different paintings and pictures. “Especially if you get the chance to eternalize them, that way you’ll always be able to look back at them.”

“I never realized you kept these,” Karl breathes, looking at every picture with big eyes, almost as if he’s never seen them in his life.

Niki chuckles. “That’s because you come here to your old friend’s bakery, only to sit in silence and write in your book, Karl,” she teases without any venom.

Still, Karl chuckles a bit guiltily, bringing his hand up to his neck. “Yeah, I probably should stop being so occupied with it all the time.” Even now he’s brought it with him, Ranboo realizes as he watches Karl eye his bag.

“It’s okay, Karl,” Niki reassures him quickly with a hand on his shoulder. “I was just teasing, I know you have a lot of things to do these days.”

“It would be nice to catch up sometime soon again though, right?” Karl asks, shifting in his seat. “Sap and Quackity are still convinced that I was lying about the windmill story.” He grins bashfully.

Niki clasps her hand in front of her mouth, her eyes twinkling with joy. “Oh, that was such a funny day,” she recalls, and walks towards the wall. “I bought this painting because it reminded me of it, actually.” She points out a painting of a windmill in a green field, a small figure leaning out of a window on the upside and waving a white piece of cloth around.

Karl hums. “After that incident I was surprised you still wanted to bake at all,” he chuckles, tapping his fingers on the table. His rings shine in the sunlight that filters through the windows.

“Of course I still wanted to bake!” She responds energetically, snapping out of the memories. “It makes meeting people so much easier, and I get to see your face every time I tell you there are raspberry-jam filled doughnuts.”

Karl’s face lights up like a child finding a secret candy stash, and Ranboo chuckles softly as he perks up visibly. “You made raspberry jam doughnuts?”

Niki chuckles as well, quirking an eye at Ranboo, almost as if to say _“Look at this child”_. Ranboo smiles back, finding himself relaxing surprisingly quickly, Niki’s presence naturally disarming. “Well, the calendar said it was Friday, and you usually drop by on Fridays.”

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” Karl asks as she turns her back to them, disappearing through the door shortly only to reappear with two more trays of all sorts of baked goods and a self-assured smile.

“Why thank you, Karl,” she answers, dishing out food on different plates. “What can I get for you, Ranboo?”

Ranboo looks at all the options, seeing entire breads, tiny cakes, goods in all shapes and sizes looking so good he almost wants to ask for all of them. As he tries to decide, though, he realizes he doesn’t know the names of half of these things, much less how much it will cost him. He has no money on him, and, sure, Karl might claim he’s willing to pay, but what if Ranboo picks something that’s too expensive? He’s pretty sure bakery’s are affordable but he’s been wrong before, and he really doesn’t want to make Karl mad or disappointed.

Noticing his troubled look, Niki gives him an assuring smile. “It’s alright if you’re not sure, I know there’s a lot. Would you like me to help you pick?”

Ranboo nods thankfully. “Yeah. That- that would be nice.”

“Okay, hmm. Would you like something more sweet or more savory?”

It only takes him a moment to decide. “Sweet would be nice,” he answers and Niki nods proudly at him.

“Good! I have a lot of sweet stuff. Do you see anything that catches your eye in particular?”

Ranboo hesitates. There are a lot of options, and he really has no idea where to begin. He shakes his head eventually, eyeing Niki cautiously.

The woman perks up. “That’s okay! I’ll just pick something for you, if that’s okay?”

Ranboo nods gratefully and she sets to work. With Karl’s help she picks out a golden brown bun and a muffin. “This is a honey lavender bun and a cherry-chocolate muffin,” she explains as she places his plate in front of him, following it up with Karl’s plate. “And there’s your doughnut and croissant, Karl,” she smiles kindly.

They both thank her and order their drinks. When she returns with the two glasses, Ranboo is happily surprised to find that she went ahead and gave him a straw with his drink.

When he opens his mouth to thank her once again, Niki winks at him. “I have some distant family who are enderman hybrids,” she whispers knowingly, softly squeezing his shoulder as she walks back to the counter and disappears behind the door again.

They eat breakfast over peaceful conversation, Niki occasionally joining in. It’s a calm affair, and by the time they walk out the door of the homey bakery with two loafs of bread, almost an hour has passed.


	9. Eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery eclipse disturbs the town. Ranboo and Karl visit Sapnap in his workplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This week and the following week I'll be a bit busy, so updates might be a little less frequent!
> 
> Have a great day <3

People are slowly trickling onto the streets, though it doesn’t get too crowded, most people are just heading towards their jobs to finish off their business before the weekend. Ranboo watches with interest as wildly varying people pass him. Some are hybrids, like him – he sees a creeper hybrid with a tool belt, someone that looks like a reindeer hybrid, though he’s not sure, a fox hybrid, and a piglin and an avian hybrid, who stop when they spot Karl standing outside the bakery.

The avian hybrid says something to the piglin and they both walk up, the piglin trailing behind a little. The avian hybrid smiles warmly as he greets them. “Morning, Karl. You’re up early today.”

“Hi Phil, Techno,” Karl greets back, nodding at the two hybrids. “Ranboo and me are getting supplies today,” he explains, and Ranboo waves awkwardly at them.

He assumes Phil to be the avian hybrid, remembering Tommy had said something about his dad having wings. That leaves the piglin as Techno, someone who he has heard quite a lot about by now. Ranboo thought most stories about the famed fighter were exaggerated (seriously, slaying twenty husks on his own, without armor? That sounds ridiculous), but looking at his mighty build and the way he’s almost as tall as Ranboo himself, the mighty sword that’s sheathed on his side and his menacing eyes, all doubt disappear.

He fiddles with his fingers nervously, keeping his gaze trained on the floor as he hopes this conversation won’t take too long. Techno gives him the creeps. When the piglin hybrid glances at him, he tenses unintentionally. 

“Oh, so you’re Ranboo?” Phil asks, and Ranboo heaves a quiet sigh before looking up, nodding slightly. “Nice to meet you, mate.” His friendly smile only does so much to calm his nerves, and he hopes Karl can notice he’s getting uncomfortable. Ranboo nods again at Phil, forcing a small smile on his face.

Phil looks him up and down once, and Ranboo swallows nervously, but that seems to be the end of it. He can breathe a sigh of relief as Phil moves his attention to Karl, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Is your hand doing better, Karl?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Karl smiles gratefully. “Thanks again for that.”

“No problem. If you have an emergency, you know my door is always open,” Phil smiles warmly. He moves his gaze to Techno shortly before facing them again. “Well, it was nice seeing you. We’re going on to the stables now.”

“Oh, of course! See you around!” Karl waves them off cheerfully. As soon as they’re out of earshot he turns to him, cocking his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. It’s just- well, Techno is pretty intimidating,” Ranboo chuckles uncomfortably, following the pink-haired man with his eyes until he rounds a corner, disappearing from his view.

Karl nods, his face softening slightly. “He has that effect on people, yeah. If it makes you feel any better though, he’s not very sociable. The chances he’ll try to initiate a conversation with you are about as big as the chance of him losing a fight.”

“He really is the stereotypical dark, brooding warrior, isn’t he?” Ranboo asks as he follows Karl, trusting him to take them to wherever they might need to go next. A surprising amount of people smile at him as he passes them. It feels.. strange to get so much positive attention from strangers, to put it bluntly.

Karl bursts out chuckling at that, and Ranboo feels the corners of his mouth curl upwards at the contagious sound as well. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right,” he snickers, gently nudging his arm. “You’re a joy to be around, Ranboo,” he adds after a few moments and proceeds to walk on like he hasn’t just sent Ranboo’s head flying.

Ranboo halts and takes a moment to collect himself. It’s embarrassing that he reacts so heavily to a simple compliment, he figures as he feels his cheeks flush red.

Karl stops and turns around when he notices that Ranboo hasn’t moved, his face lighting up when he figures out why. When Ranboo turns even more red at that he allows himself just another moment of joy before smoothing out his face and waiting for Ranboo as he catches up to him.

They stop in front of a butcher and buy some meat before rushing back out. “I hate the smell of those places,” Karl explains a little later, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

They cross the entire town after Karl has decided they might as well make the best of it and get Ranboo some personal stuff. The tailor is first in line, where he gets three sets of clothing that will fit him nicely and a winter coat, seeing as the cold is slowly seeping into their everyday lives. The shoemaker is up next. Ranboo gets his measurements taken as Karl hangs around, looking at pairs of practically unaffordable shoes that are on display. After that comes the carpenter, where they order a comfortable chair, a new nightstand and some bookshelves, Ranboo insisting that he’s happy with the current wardrobe. After that they go to a weaver to get a carpet and curtains, and the merchant to get some trinkets, finishing at the sweet maker. When they walk out of there with two bags of candies, Ranboo allows himself a short moment to worry about the effects all this sugar might have on Karl, who is usually already very energetic.

They’re making their way to Sapnap’s workshop when the sky darkens. Karl stops in his tracks and they both look up, Ranboo’s breath catching in his throat when he spots the darkest clouds he’s ever seen blocking sight of the blue midday sky. A black orb appears to be moving in front of the sun as well, he notes with fearful puzzlement. “What is going on?” he asks, hating how small his voice sounds.

“I- I don’t know,” Karl responds, glancing up at the sky uncertainly. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Well, that certainly does wonders for Ranboo’s nerves.

People around them have stopped walking and are looking up too now, watching as the dark orb starts covering the sun’s surface. Ranboo keeps his eyes on the sky as well, captivated by the disturbing occurrences.

He’s ripped from its control as someone runs onto the streets, his face hid by a gas mask. Ranboo recognizes him as the creeper hybrid. “Guys, don’t look directly at the eclipse! Please look away, or it will blind you!”

Surprisingly, people listen to the creeper hybrid. One by one they start tearing their eyes away from whatever is happening up in the sky, and the street fills with confused murmurs.

An uncomfortable feeling spreads through his body at the situation – something about the dark, the anxiety and the hushed talking of people everywhere around him sets off a completely wrong feeling in his chest. Feeling heavy, Ranboo reluctantly nudges Karl.

The latter looks at him, his eyes glassy as he’s probably still deep in his thoughts. “Hm?”

Ranboo hesitates. Despite the countless times he’s been told it’s okay to tell them if he gets uncomfortable or something similar, it still feels like he’s bothering Karl an unnecessary amount and ruining a perfectly good trip in town. Then he looks around and sees the small groups of people forming, and wraps his arms a little tighter around the bags instinctively, hugging them close to his chest. “Could we maybe go? I- This isn’t really a comfortable situation right now.”

“Oh,” Karl responds softly, glancing around him as if it’s the first time he notices the small crowd of people standing around him. “Oh,” he repeats a little louder, and places a hand on his upper arm. “Of course. Do you still want to go to Sapnap’s? That’s closer right now than home.”

Ranboo nods and allows Karl to guide him through the street as his mind blanks shortly. He focuses on the hand on his arm, holding him in a gentle yet secure grip.

They’re both content staying silent as they walk the remaining minute, Karl still lost in his thoughts and Ranboo doing much the same. Before he knows it they’re at the blacksmith. The doors of the small workshop are wide open and a steady cloud of smoke wafts out through it, making Ranboo cough slightly as they enter.

Sapnap is sat on a stool, spurring on the bellows to heat up the already blazing fire. He spots them and beckons for them to come in, pointing them to the back of the workshop where they’ll be out of the smoke and heat before continuing, sweat glistening on his skin as he works tirelessly.

Clearly already familiar with the room, Karl leads him to a small bench underneath a rack of battle axes, all of them looking about ready to slice someone’s head clean off their shoulders. Ranboo takes his seat, thankfully setting down his bags on the ground and stretching his arms.

They wait as Sapnap rounds off his current activity and shuts the fire off from the room by sliding an ingeniously crafted metal trapdoor in front of it. He takes a long swig from his bottle before moving his stool to slump down on it next to them. “Hi guys,” he greets, nodding thankfully as Karl hands him the towel that hangs from the wall. “How’s the shopping going?”

“Good, good,” Karl tells him quickly, glancing over his shoulder to the sky outside. Ranboo follows his look to see through the already clearing-up smoke that the sky is still quite a bit darker than it should be at midday. “Hey Sap, did you hear anything about an eclipse happening today?”

Sapnap frowns. “You didn’t tell me about one happening, so.. no?” he recounts, turning to see outside, too. “Why- What’s going on?”

It’s silent for a long time. Karl’s expression is still unusually serious, his lips set in a thin line as he thinks. “That’s what I’m worried about, Sap. I have no idea what’s going on. I feel like this was not meant to happen.”

“Shit,” Sapnap mutters, wringing his hands together. “Are you sure?”

Karl nods solemnly, his expression growing more ominous by the minute. “This wasn’t in the books.”

Sapnap’s jaw tightens and he looks up at the ceiling, not immediately responding.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Ranboo interjects, trying to no avail to read their expressions. He can’t help but feel like he’s missing a vital piece of information, especially when their eyes meet and Sapnap shrugs helplessly at Karl.

“Ranboo,” Karl starts, fixing him with an apologetic look. “There are some things I can’t share with you yet, I’m afraid.”

Ranboo’s shoulders sag. Great, even after he’s bared his soul to Karl and his fiancées, they can’t _trust_ him.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” Karl hastens to add, “but this is some really sensitive information. You’ll understand soon enough, Ranboo,” he promises, looking more guilty than he has any right to be.

“It’s okay,” Ranboo manages, smiling as he frantically tries to push his thoughts away. “I get it.”

Sapnap looks at him with a soft-hearted smile. “We do trust you completely, Ranboo, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Ranboo nods. He’s surprised when he feels a familiar pressure build up behind his eyes. Something in Sapnap’s words affects him more than he’d like to admit while he cards his hand through his hair nervously.

“Is touch okay?” Karl asks timidly, unable to completely rid his voice of guilt. Ranboo finds the two fiancées watching him with anticipation, having picked up on his sudden mood switch. He looks down at his hands, thinking about the question a bit before he nods.

Karl slings an arm over his shoulders as Sapnap squeezes on the bench on his right, pressing slightly against his side as he wraps him in his arms. Ranboo immediately finds himself melting into the embrace. The pressure against his skin helps fill some void he can’t really explain, but it feels safe and warm and like home. From behind Karl shuffles a little closer as well, rubbing circles on his back with his free hand, relaxing his muscles.

“You’re alright,” Sapnap mumbles. Ranboo presses his head against his chest, focusing on the man’s strong heartbeat. It takes considerable focus to keep his breaths deep and somewhat consistent but he manages, letting Sapnap and Karl keep him together as he works to fix the tears in his barrier.

When Quackity storms in they’re still sat like that. Ranboo looks up shortly to receive a tiny, if questioning smile from the man before he heaves a gentle sigh and closes his eyes again, leaning his head against Sapnap’s shoulder again.

Karl gestures for Quackity to join them, and the two have a soft conversation Ranboo tunes out before Karl leans backwards a little, making some space for Quackity to come sit on his lap. Soon the two snuggle closer to him again, everyone completely happy to hug together on the tiny bench.

“Didn’t know you were into hugging that much, Ranboo?” Quackity asks, and Ranboo chuckles softly.

“It’s fine sometimes, I guess,” he responds dryly. A soft rumble he recognizes as a quiet chuckle spreads through Sapnap’s chest.

Karl giggles as well, lifting up his head. “Our habits are starting to rub off on him, Q. We’re like a family.”

“Yeah,” Quackity agrees, snuggling closer against Karl’s chest. “I never knew I’d still be able to become a dad when I started dating you two.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Karl protests indignantly. “We’re awesome dads.”

“We’ll see about that one,” Quackity grins. “But it’s nice to have a family,” he muses, a soft underline to his voice.

“Just three dads and their adopted son,” Sapnap adds, and all three men chuckle at that.

Ranboo doesn’t respond, but the way he buries his face deeper into their embrace to hide his flushed cheeks is more than enough for the others. They don’t even have to know the way his heart speeds up at those words or his breath quivered for a moment to know he feels the exact same way.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any inaccuracies in this fic or things that could be improved on, please don't hesitate to tell me! I'm still learning and I appreciate all feedback :D
> 
> Comments and kudo's are greatly appreciated! Thanks for swinging by, have a wonderful day!


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